
Glass k.^Ll=L\^^ 



Book 



iSll. 



53 <^^ 



THE 



Nw'' C/ ^-^ 



ELEMENTS - 



MORAL SCIENCE. 



5Y 

FRANCIS WAYLAND, D.D.,LL.D., 

X.ATS PBESIDENT OP BROWTV ir:M;Ti:KSITT, ASTD PKOTESSOB 0» 
MOB AX PHILOSGEHT. 



gebistb Hnb Improfr^b ^bitlon. 



BOSTON: 

OOULD AND LINCOLN, 

59 ■WASUIXOTON STREET. 

NEW YOEK: SHELDON AND COMPANY. 

1872. 



0/ 






Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 18®, 
By FRANCIS WAYLAND, 

lu the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Rhode Island 



^ PREFACE. 



^ 



In presenting to tlie public a new treatise upon Moral Science, 
it may not be improper to state tlie circumstances whicli led to the 
undertaking, and the design which it is intended to accomplish. 

When it became my duty to instruct in Moral Philosophy in 
Brown University, the text-book in use was the work of Dr. Paley. 
From many of his principles I found myself compelled to dissent, 
and at first I contented myself with stating to my classes my objec- 
tions to the author, and offering my views, in the form of familiar 
conver^^ations, upon several of the topics which he discusses. These 
views, for my own convenience, I soon committed to paper, and 
delivered in the form of lectures. In a few years these lectures had 
become so far extended that, to my surprise, they contained by 
themselves the elements of a different system from that of the text- 
book which I was teaching. To avoid the inconvenience of teaching 
two different systems, I undertook to reduce them to order, and to 
make such additions as would render the work in some measure 
complete within Itself. I thus relinquished the work of Dr. Paley, 
and for some time have been in the habit of instructing solely by 
lecture. The success of the attempt exceeded my expectations, and 
encouraged me to hope that the publication of what I had delivered 
to my classes might in some small degree facihtate the study of moral 
w^ience. 



IV PREFACE. 

From these circumstances the work has derived its character: 
Being designed for the purposes of instruction, its aim is to be sint- 
ple, clear, and purely didactic. I have rarely gone into extended 
discussion, but have contented myself •with the attempt to state the 
moral law, and the reason of it, in as few and as comprehensive terms 
as possible. The illustration of the principles, and the application 
of them to cases in ordinary life, I have generally left to the 
instructor, or to the student himself. Hence, also, I have omitted 
everything which relates to the history of opinions, and have made 
but little allusion even to the opinions themselves of those from 
whom I dissent. To have acted otherwise would have extended 
the undertaking greatly beyond the limits which I had assigned to 
myself; and it seemed to me not to belong to the design which I had 
in view. A work which should attempt to exhibit what was true 
appeared to me more desirable than one which should point out 
what was exploded, discuss what was doubtful, or disprove what was 
false. 

In the course of the work I have quoted but few authorities, as in 
preparing it I have referred to but few books. I make this remark 
in no manner for the sake of laying claim to originality, but to avoid 
ihe imputation of using the labors of others without acknowledgment. 
When I commenced the undertaking I attempted to read exten- 
sively, but soon found it so difficult to arrive at any definite results 
in this manner that the necessities of my situation obliged me to rely 
upon my own reflection. That I have thus come to the same conclu- 
sions with many others, I should be unwilling to doubt. When this 
coincidence of opinion has come to my knowledge, I have mentioned 
it. When it is not mentioned, it is because I have not known it. 

The author to whom I am under the greatest obligations Is Bishop 
Butler. The chapter on Conscience Is, as I suppose, but little more 
than a development, of his ideas on the same subject. How muct 



r R E F A C E . T 

more I owe to tlils iueomparable writer I know not. As it was the 
study of bis sermons on liumau nature that first turned mj attention 
to this subject, there are doubtless many trains of thought which I 
have derived from him, but which I have not been able to trace to 
their source, as they have long since become incorporated with my 
own reflections. The article on the Sabbath, as is stated in the 
text, is derived chiefly from the tract of IMr. J. J. Gurney on the 
same subject. Entertaining those views of the Sacred Scriptures 
which I have expressed in the work itself, it is scarcely necessary to 
add here that I consider them the great source of moral truth, and 
that a system of ethics will be true just in proportion as it develops 
their meaning. To do this has been my object ; and to have, in ever 
so humble a manner, accomplished it, I shall consider as the greatest 
possible success. 

It is not without much diffidence that I have ventured to lay be- 
fore the public a work on this important subject. That something 
of this sort was needed has long been universally confessed. My 
professional duty led me to undertake it ; and I trust that the hope 
of usefulness has induced me to prepare it for publication. If I 
have not been so happy as to elucidate truth, I have endeavored to 
express myself in such a manner that the reader shall have as little 
trouble as possible in detecting my errors. And if it shall be found 
that I have thrown any. hght whatever upon the science of human 
duty, I shall have unspeakable cause for gratitude to that Spirit 
whose inspiration alone teacheth man understanding. And my 
cause for gratitude will scarcely be less should my failure incite some 
one, better able than myself to do justice to the subject, to a more 
successful undertaking. 

Beown University, Apeel, 1835. 



PREFACE 



TO THE SECOND EDITION. 



A SECOND edition of the Elements of Moral Science having been 
demanded, within a much shorter period than was anticipated, I 
have given to the revisal of it all the attention which my avocations 
have permitted. 

The first edition, owing to circumstances which could not be fore- 
seen, was, unfortunately, in several places inaccurate in typograph- 
ical execution. I have endeavored, I hope with better success, to 
render the present edition in this respect less liable to censure. In 
a few cases single words and modes of expression have also been 
changed. I have, however, confined myself to verbal corrections, 
and have in no case that I remember intentionally altered the sense. 

Having understood that the work has been introduced as a text- 
book into some of our highest seminaries of education, I hope that 1 
may be forgiven if I suggest a few hints as to the manner in which 
I suppose it may be most successfully used for this purpose. 

1. In the recitation-room, let neither instructor nor pupil ever 
make use of the book. 

2. Let the portion prfo'viously assigned for the exercise be so 



PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION". VII 

tered bv the pupil, both in plan and illustration, that he will be able 
♦•o recite it in order, and explain the connection of the different 
parts with each other, without the necessity of assistance from his 
instructor. To give the language of the author is not, of course, 
desirable. It is sufScient if the idea be given. The questions of 
the instructor should have respect to principles that maybe deduced 
from the text, practical application of the doctrines, objections which 
may be raised, etc. 

3. Let the lesson which was recited on one day be invariably 
reviewed on the day succeeding. 

4. As soon as any considerable progress has been made in the 
work, let a review from the beginning be commenced. This should 
comprehend, for one exercise, as much as had been previously 
recited in two or three days; and should be confined to a brief 
analysis of the argument, with a mere mention of the illustrations. 

5. As soon as the whole portion thus far recited has been re- 
viewed, let a new review be commenced and continued in the same 
manner, and thus on successively until the work is completed. By 
pursuing this method, a class will, at any period of the course of 
study, be enabled, with the slightest effort, to recall whatever they 
have acquired, and when the work is completed they will be able 
to pursue the whole thread of the argument from the beginning to 
the end, and thus to retain a knowledge, not only of the individual 
principles, but also of their relations to each other. 

But the advantage of this mode of study is not confined to that 
of a more perfect knowledge of this or of any other book. By pre- 
senting the whole field of thought at one view before the mind, it 



Vm PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION". 

will cultivate the power of pursuing an extended range of argument ] 
of examining and deciding upon a connected chain of reasoning ; and 
will, in no small degree, accustom the student to carry forward m 
his own mind a train of original investigation. 

I have been emboldened to make these suggestions, not in the 
least because I suppose the present work worthy of any pecuhar 
attention from an instructor, but simply because, having been long 
in the habit of pursuing this method, and having witnessed its results 
in my own classes, I have thought it my duty to suggest it to those 
who are engaged in the same profession with myself. Other in- 
structors may have succeeded better with other methods ; I have 
succeeded best with this. 

At the suggestion of some of his friends, the author has it in cos- 
templation to prepare a small abridgment of the present work, in 
duodecimo, for the use of schools and academies. It will be pub* 
lished as soon as his engagements will permit. 

Browtt Uotvbbsitt, Septbhbjbr. 18&K. 



PREFACE 



TO THE REVISED EDITION 



In using the following volume as a text-book for 
many years, I have derived great benefit from the free 
discussions of the lecture-room. Some of the princi- 
ples I thought needed modification, and others might 
be presented in a form more easy to be understood. 
As soon, therefore, as I was released from the actual 
duties of instruction, I commenced the work of re- 
vision of what I had so long taught. My progress was 
arrested by an attack of illness, and for two or three 
years I was obliged to lay it entirely aside. With 
returning health I resumed my labors, and I lay the 
result before the public. A large portion of the worlf 
is unchanged. Some chapters have been modified, 



X PREFACE TO THE REVISED EDITION. 

and a few wholly rewritten. I hope that by this labor 
the book is made better. 

Grateful for the kind reception which has been given 
to the original work, specially by the instructors of 
youth, and hoping that these my later labors may aid 
them yet more in the important work of the teaching 
of morals, it is cheerfully offered for their approval. 

rBOVIBEKOE, AUGUBT 80, 1865 




'^ 



CONTENTS 

AND 

PLAN OF THE WORK 



THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

\ 

CHAPTER, I. 



PAOI 



OF TEE ORIGIN OF OUR NOTION OF THE MORAL QUALITY 

OF ACTIONS , . 25 

SECTION I. 

Op M.OEAL Law 25 

Of law in general 25 

Of moral law 26 

Moral law unchangeable , , . ,27 

^ SECTION 11. 

What is a Moral Action? 28 

Of action 28 

Of moral action 31 

SECTION III. 

In what paet of an Action resides its Moral Quality? 32 

When is the intention wrong ? • . 33 

SECTION IV. 

Whence do we derive our Notion of the Moral Charac- 
ter OF Actions? . . , .76 

Oar notions original or derived 36 

Moral ideas original 36 



xn 



CONTENTS 



Not derived from judgment, or the idea of the greatest amount of 

happiness 38 

An answer to the question suggested . 3<^ 



CHAPTER II. 

CONSCIENCE, OR THE MORAL SENSE 45 

SECTION L 

Is THERE A Conscience? .45 

Question considered . . . . . . . . . .45 

Objections answered .......... 46 



SECTION XL 

The States or Mind which akise immediately fkom the 
Ideas oe Right and Weong 

1. The feeling of obligation 

2. An impulse to do or not to do 

3. Obedience to conscience, or the contrary, followed by eithev 

pleasure or pain . 

4. Followed by expectation 

5. This expectation definite 

6. It is unchangeable . 

7. It is more than certain . 

8. V/c are pleased to observe this connection 

9. Boldness of innocence and timidity of guilt 



50 

50 

51 
ul 

52 
52 
52 
53 
54 



SECTION III. 

The Authokity of Conscience 57 

Its superior authority shoAvn from our conception of this faculty . 57 

From a comparison between man and brutes 59 

Its superiority necessary in order to accomplish the objects for 

which we were created 61 

SECTION IV. 

The Cultivation or Conscience 69 

As a discriminating power 7§ 

As an impulsive power 73 

As a source of pleasure or pain 74 

SECTION V. 

Rules for Moral Conduct .....»., '"^ 

Before resolving upon an action . ... .... 78 

After an action has been performed . , • , c , 8t 



CONTENTS. Xm 



CHAPTER III. 

PAOB 

THE NATURE OF VIRTUE .... ... 84 



SECTION I. 

Of Virtue in general 84 

SECTION n. 

Of Virtue in Imperfect Beings ...,.,, 87 

Of the obligations of such beings . 91 

Man's relation to moral law 92 

The moral relations of habit ...•••••• 95 



CHAPTER IV. 

OF HUMAN HAPPINESS 99 

Happiness the gratification of desire 100 

But that gratification must be within limits • • • • • 101 



CHAPTER V. 

OF SELF-LOVE 104 

Nature of self-love • . . . . 104 

Rank of self-love 107 



CHAPTER VI. 

(NPERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE; NEED OF SOME OTHER 

MORAL LIGHT Ill 

Imperfection of conscience Ill 

Necessity of additional light 114 

Wha*= light might be expected . 115 



CHAPTER VII. 

V. " NATURAL RELIGION 118 

3 



XIV CONTENTS. 

SECTION L 

PAOS 

Of the Manner in which we mat learn our Duty from 

THE Light of Nature IIS 

From general consequences 118 

Objection considered 122 

SECTION II. 

How FAR WE MAY LEARN OUR DUTY FROM THE LiGHT OF NATURE 123 

Knowledge acquired in this manner 123 

Motives which it presents ... ..... 125 

SECTION IIL 

Defects of Natural Religion as a Moral Guide . . 126 

From facts 126 

The cause of these defects . . . 120 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE RELATION BETWEEN NATURAL AND REVEALED 

RELIGION 132 

What expectations are to be entertained 132 

How these expectations are realized by the Scriptures . . .133 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE HOLY SCRIPTURES 137 

SECTION L 

A View of the Holy Scriptures 137 

The Old Testament ....,.,,.. 138 

The New Testament 140 

SECTION 11. 

Of the Manner in which we may learn oub Duty from 

THE Scriptures 141 

What is excluded 142 

What is included 144 

Our means of moral instruction . 145 



CONTENTS. XY 



§00k ^a0it!&, 

FRAOTICAL, ETHICS. 

PAET I. 

LOVE TO GOD, OR PIETY. 

« 

CHAPTER I. 

PAoa 
GENERAL OBLIGATION OF SUPREME LOVE TO GOD . . 151 

The relaLon existing between God and his creatures , . , 151 
Rights aicd obligations arising from this relation .... 153 
These suited to om- nature ......... 162 

CHAPTER II. 

THE CULTIVATION OF A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT . , . 165 

CHAPTER III. 

OF PRAYER 170 

The nature of prayer 170 

The duty of prayer 172 

The utility of prayer 175 



CHAPTER IV. 

HE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH 179 

Of the original institution of the Sabbath 180 

Of the Mosaic Sabbath .' 182 

Of the Christian Sabbath 184 

Of the manner in which the day is to be observed .... 187 

The duty of the civil magistrate ....... 189 



XVI CONTENTS, 



PAET II 



DUTIES TO MAN. 



RECIPROCITY AND BENEVOLENCE. 



DIVISION I, 



EECIPEOCITT. * 

tkom 

THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY— GENERAL PRINCIPLES 
ILLUSTRATED, AND THE DUTIES OF RECIPROCITY 

CLASSIFIED 191 

Nature of human equality 191 

Teaching of the Scriptures 196 

The law applies to communities 198 

Classification of the duties of reciprocity . . . ' . • .199 



CLASS I. 

DUTIES TO MEN AS MEN. 
JUSTICE AND VERACITY. 



JUSTICE. 

CHAPTER I. 



PERSONAL LIBERTY 



SECTION L 

Natuee of Personal Liberty .•.,.,, 202 

Physical liberty 203 

Intellectual liberty 204 

Religious liberty 206 

Kxceptions ......,,,,,, 20? 



CONTENTS. XVn 

SECTION n. 

yAGK 

Of the Violation of Personal Liberty by the Individual 208 

i)omestic slavery, its nature and effects 208 

Without support from natural law 211 

Vitliout support from the Scriptures 217 

Noah's curse 217 

The law of Moses 219 

Teachings of Christ and the apostles 221 

Duties of masters 225 

Duties of slaves 227 

SECTION III. 

The Violation of Personal Liberty by Society . . . 228 

Violation of physical liberty 229 

Violation of intellectual liberty 230 

SECTION IV. 

The Violation of Religious Liberty by Society . . 235 



CHAPTER 11. 

JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS PROPERTY . . . ' . ,239 

SECTION I. 

The Right of Property 239 

Definition 239 

On what the right of property is founded 239 

Modes in which the right of property may be acquired . . , 241 

SECTION 11, 

Modes in which the Rights of Property may be Violat- 
ed by the Individual 246 

Without consent, — 1. Theft. 2. Robbery 247 

By consent fradulently obtained 248 

(a.) Where no equivalent is offered 248 

(6.) Where the equivalent is different from what it purports to be 218 

1. Where the equivalent is material, and the transfer perpetual . 248 
The law of buyer and seller 248 

2. W^here the transfer is temporary 253 

Interest or loan of money 253 

Loan of other property 257 

Insurance 258 

2* 



XVIII CONTENTS. 

3. Where the equivalent is immaterial 259 

Of master and servant , . , 259 

Of principal and agent • . 260 

Of representatives 263 

SECTION III. 

Eight of Property as Violated by Society .... 264 



CHAPTER III. 

JUSTICE AS IT EESPECTS CHARACTER 269 

Nature of the obligation 269 

Violated by weakening the moral restrains of men . . , . 271 

Violated by exciting their evil dispositions 272 



CHAPTER IV. 

JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION 276 

Nature of the obligation 276 

Giving publicity to bad actions . . . . . . . . 278 

Unjust conclusions respecting character 279 

Assigning bad motives unnecessarily . " 280 

Ridicule and mimicry 281 

Om' duty to reveal the bad actions of others 284 

Our duty to promote the ends of public justice .... 284 

Our duty to protect the innocent, and for the good of i;lie oflfender 284 

Duty of historians . 285 

Duty of the public press . . . ' . . ... . .286 



CLASS I (continued). 

DUTIES TO MEN AS MEN. 
VERACITY. 

CHAPTER I. 

VERACITY AS IT RESPECTS THE PAST AND PRESENT . 289 

Law of veracity . . . i 289 

What it forbids 290 

Necessity of such a law . . 29^ 



CONTENTS. 



XIX 



CHAPTER II. 

Pagb 

VERAaTT IN EESPECT TO THE FUTURE 295 

Of promises 295 

Their intention and obligatiou 295 

"When promises axe not binding • . 296 

Of contracts . .' 298 



CHAPTER m. 



OE OATHS . . . 




. . . . 301 


Tlie thcoiy of oaths . 




. 301 


Lawfulness of oaths . 




. . . . 303 


Interpretation of oaths 




. 304 


Different kinds of oaths 




. . . . 304 



CLASS n. 

DUTIES WHICH ARISE FROM THE CONSTITUTION OF THE 

SEXES. 

CHAPTER I. 

THE DUTY OF CHASTITY . . . . . . . .307 

What the moral law foi-'jid" 307 

What it commands, — exciusive union 307 

union for life 308 

Precepts of religion on this subject 310 



CHAPTER II. 



THE LAW OF MARRIAGE 312 

The nature of the contract .312 

Duties imposed by the contract 315 

Chastity .315 

Mutual affection .315 

Mutual assistance ,.31^' 



XX CONTENTS 



CHAPTER III. 

FAGB 

THE LAW OF PARENTS 318 

Relation of the parties to each other 318 

Duties of parents • . . 320 

Support or maintenance 320 

Ph^'sical education 32i. 

Intellectual education 321 

Moral education » . . 323 

Rights of parents 327 

Duration of these rights . . < • • • . • . 327 

Of instructors 328 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE LAW OF CHILDREN • .330 

Duties of children 330 

Obedience 330 

Reverence 332 

Fihal affection 332 

Necessary maintenance 333 

Rights of children 383 

Duration of these rights and obligations 333 

Duties of pupils 33d 



CLASS III. 

DUTIES TO 3VIAN AS A MEMBER OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 

CHAPTER I. 

OF CIVIL SOCIETY r 338 

SECTION I, 

Of a Simple Society 338 

Nature of the contract • • . . 338 

Manner in which governed . . ..••.. 340 

Limits of the power of a majority 340 

Durability of corporations 342 



CONTENTS. XXI 

SECTION n. 

PAGB 

Of Civil Society 344 

Natural rig:hts of the individual 344 

Inability of the individual to maintain them 345 

Society the natural resource 345 

The powers of society limited ........ 347 

Eights of the individual in society 348 

Civil society distinguished from voluntary associations . . . 349 

Society may err; what then? 350 

Blessings of civil society 350 

Special claims of society 351 



CHAPTER II. 

Of THE MODE IN WHICH THE OBJECTS OF SOCIETY ARE 

ACCOMPLISHED 352 

The parts of a government 353 

"What form of government is preferable . . . . . . 355 



CHAPTER III. 

DUTIES OF THE OFFICERS OF A GOVERNIMENT . . .358 

Of legislative officers 358 

Of judicial officers 360 

Of executive officers 361 



CHAPTER IV. 

DUTIES OF CITIZENS 363 

As individuals 363 

As constituent members of society . , 364 

When the compact is violated 363 



DIVISION II 



BENEVOLEN^CE. 



CHAPTER I. 



GENERAL OBLIGATION, AND DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT 369 
Nature and proof of the obligation from our constitution . . 369 
Proof from the Holy Scriptures 371 



XXn CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER 11. 
BENEVOLENCE TO THE UNHAPPY 376 



SECTION L 

Unhappiness from Physical Condition 376 

Objects of charity 376 

Laws affecting the recipient 377 

Laws affecting the benefactor 378 

Poor-laws 379 

Voluntary associations 381 

SECTION 11. 

Unhappiness from Intellectual Condition .... 382 



CHAPTER III. 

BENEVOLENCE TO THE WICKED 387. 

CHAPTER IV. 

BENEVOLENCE TO THE INJURIOUS 390 

Injury committed by an individual against an indiyidual . . 390 

Injury committed by an individual against society .... 391 

Injury committed by a society against a society . , . 392 

Of war 394 



NOTE. 
Duties to Brutes . 395 



BOOK I. 

THEORETICAL ETHICS. 



THEOEETICAL ETHICS. 



CHAPTER I. 

Of THE ORIGIN OF OUR NOTION OF THE MORAL QUALtTt 
OF ACTIONS. 

SECTION I, 

OF MOEAL LAW. 

Ethics, or Moral Philosophy, is the Science of Moral 
Law. 

The first question which presents itself is. What is 
moral law ? Let us, then, inquire first, what is law ; 
and, secondly, what is moral law. 

By the term law I think we generally mean a form 
of expression denoting either a mode of existence or 
an order of sequence. 

Thus, the first of Sir Isaac Newton's laws, namely, 
that every body will continue in a state of rest, or of 
uniform motion in a right line, unless compelled by 
some force to change its state, denotes a mode of 
existence. 

The third law of motion, that, to every action of one 
body upon another, there is an equal and contrary re- 
action, denotes an order of sequence ; that is, it declares 
the general fact that, if one event occur, the constitu- 
tion of things under which we exist is such that an 
other event will also occur. 

The axioms in Mathematics are laws of the same 
3 



26 'THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

kind. Thus, the axiom, " If equals be added to equals, 
the wholes will be equal," denotes an order of sequence 
in respect to quantity. 

Of the same nature are the laws of Chemistry. 
Such, for instance, is the law that, if soda be saturated 
with muriatic acid, the result will be common salt. 

Thus, also, in Intellectual Philosophy. If a picture 
of a visible object be formed upon the retina, and the 
impression be communicated, by the nerves, to the 
brain, the result will be an act of perception. 

The meaning of law, when referring to civil society, 
is substantially the same. It expresses an established 
order of sequence between a specified action and a 
particular mode of reward or of punishment. Such, 
in general, is the meaning of law, ) 

Moral Philosophy takes it for gp4nted that there is in 
human actions a moral quality ; that is, that a human 
action may be either right or wrong. Every one knows 
that we may contemplate the same action as wise or 
unwise ; as courteous or impolite ; as graceful or awk- 
ward ; and, also, as right or wrong. It can have es- 
caped the observation of no one that there are conse- 
quences distinct from each other, which follow an action, 
and which are connected, respectively, with each of its 
attributes. To take, for instance, a moral quality. 
Two men may both utter what is false ; the one intend- 
ing to speak the truth, the other intending to deceive. 
Now, some of the consequences of this act are common 
to both cases ; namely, that the hearers may in both 
cases be deceived. But it is equally manifest that 
there are also consequences peculiar to the case in 
w hich the speaker intended to deceive ; as, for example, 
the effects upon his own moral character, and upon the 
estimation in which he is held by the community. 
And thus, in general, Moral Philosophy proceeds upon 
the supposition that there exists in the actions of men 
a moral quality, and that there are certain sequences 
connected by our Creator with the exhibition of that 
quality. 

A moral law is, therefore, a form of expression d^ 



i: 



OF MORAL LAW. 27 

luting an order of sequence established between the 
moral quality of actions and tlieir resMlts. .' 

Moral Philosophy, or Ethics, is the science which 
classifies and illustrates moral law. 

Here it may be worth while to remark, that an order 
of sequence established, supposes of necessity an Estab- 
lisher. Hence Moral Philosophy, as well as every other 
science, proceeds upon the supposition of the existence 
of a universal Cause, the Creator of all things, who has 
made everything as it is, and who has subjected all 
things to the relations which they sustain. And hence, 
as all relations, whether moral or physical, are the re- 
sult of his enactment, an order of sequence once estab- 
lished in morals, is just as invariable as an order of 
sequence in physics. 

Such being the fact, it is evident that the moral laws 
of God can never be varied by the institutions of man, 
anymore than the physical laws. The results which 
God has connected with actions will inevitably occur, 
all the created powder in the universe to the contrary 
notwithstanding. Nor can these consequences be eluded 
or averted, any more than the sequences which follow 
by the laws of gravitation. What should we think 
of a man who expected to leap from a precipice, and by 
some act of sagacity elude the effect of the accelera- 
ting power of gravity ? or of another, who, by the exer- 
cise of his own will, determined to render himself 
imponderable? Every one who believes God to have 
established an order of sequences in morals, must see 
that it is equally absurd to expect to violate with impu- 
nity any moral law of the Creator. 

Yet men have always flattered themselves with the 
hope that they could violate moral law and escape the 
consequences which God has established. The reason 
is obvious.^ In physics, the consequent follows the ante- 
cedent, often immediately, and most commonly after a 
stated and well-known interval. In mo'/als, the result 
is frequently long delayed ; and the time of its occur- 
rence is always uncertain. ' Hence, " because sentence 
against an evil work is not executed speedily, therefore 



28 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

the hearts of the sons of men are fully set in them to 
do evil." But time, whether long or short, has neither 
povjer nor tendency to change the order of an estab- 
lished sequence. The time required for vegetation in 
different orders of plants may vary ; but yet wheat 
will always produce wheat, and an acorn will always 
produce an oak. That such is the case in morals, a 
heathen poet has taught us : — 

Raro, antecedentem scelestum 
Deseruit, pede poena claudo. 

Horace, Lib. 3. Car. 2. 

A higher authority has admonished us, '' Be not de- 
ceived ; God is not mocked ; whatsoever a man soweth^ 
that shall he also reap.'^^ It is also to be remembered 
that in morals as well as in physics the harvest is always 
more abundant than the seed from which it springs. 



SECTION II. 

WHAT IS A MOEAL ACTION? 

Action, from actum., the supine of the Latin verb ago, 
I do, signifies something done ; the putting fortli of 
some power. 

But under what circumstances must power be pul 
forth in order to render it a moral action ? 

1. A machine is, in common conversation, said to be 
powerful. A vegetable is said io put forth its leaves, a 
tree to bend its branches, or a vine to run towards a 
prop ; but we never speak of these instances of power 
as actions. 

2. Action is never affirmed but of beings possessed 
of a will; that is, of those in whom the putting forth 
uf power is immediately consequent upon their deter- 



OF MORAL ACTION. 29 

mination to put it forth. Could we conceive of ani- 
mate beings whose exertions had no connection with 
their will, we should not speak of such exertions as 
actions. 

3. Action, so far as we know, is affirmed only of 
beings possessed of intelligence ; that is, who are capa- 
ble of comprehending a particular end, and of adopting 
the means necessary to accomplish it. An action is 
something done ; that is, some change effected. But 
man effects change only by means of stated antecedents. 
An action, therefore, in such a being, supposes some 
change to be effected, and some means employed for tlie 
purpose of effecting it. 

4. All this exists in man. He is voluntary and intel- 
ligent, capable of foreseeing the result of an exertion 
of power, and that exertion of power is subject to his 
will. This is sufficient to render man the subject of 
government. He can foresee the results of a particular 
action, and can loill^ or will not, to accomplish it. And 
other results can be connected with the action of such 
a nature as to influence his will in one direction or in 
another. Thus a man may know that stabbing another 
will produce death. He has it in his power to will or 
not to will it. But such other consequences may be 
connected by society with the act, that though on many 
accounts he would desire to do it, yet on other and 
graver accounts he would prefer not to do it. This is 
sufficient to render man a subject of government. But 
is this all that is necessary to constitute man a moraJ. 
agent ; that is, to render him a subject of moral govern- 
ment ? 

May not all this be affirmed of brutes ? Are they not 
vohmtary, and even to some extent intelligent agents ? 
Do they not, frequently at least, comprehend the rela- 
tion of means to an end, and voluntarily put forth the 
power necessary for the accomplishment of that end ? 
Do they not manifestly design to injure us, and also 
select the most appropriate means for effecting their 
purpose ? And can v^e not connect such results with 
their actions as shall influence their will and prevent or 



to THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

e.:cite the exercise of their power? We do this whon- 
ei er we either caress or intimidate them, in order to pre- 
ve it them from injuring us, or to excite them to labor. 
Thoy are, then, subjects of government as truly as man. 

Is there, then, no difference between the intelligent 
and voluntary action of a brute, and the moral action 
of a man ? Suppose a brute and a man both to perform 
the same action ; as, for instance, suppose the brute to 
kill its offspring, and the man to murder his child. Are 
these actions of the same character ? Do we entertain 
the same feelings towards the authors of them ? Do 
we treat the authors in the same manner, and with the 
design of producing in them the same result ? 

I think no one can answer these questions in the 
affirmative. We piti/ the brute, but we are filled with 
indignation against the man. In the one case, we say 
there has been harm done, in the other, injury com- 
mitted. We feel that the man deserves punishment: 
V7e have no such feelings towards the brute. We say 
that the man has done wrong ; but we never affirm this 
of the brute. We may attempt to produce in the brute 
such a recollection of the offence as may deter him 
from the act in future ; but we can do no more. We 
attempt in the other case to make the man sensible of 
the act as wrong, and to produce in him a radical 
change of character ; so that he not only would not 
commit the crime again, but would be inherently averse 
to the commission of it. 

These considerations are, I think, sufficient to render 
it evident that we perceive an element in the actions 
of men which does not exist in the actions of brutes. 
What is this element ? 

If we should ask a child, he would tell us that the 
man knovjs better. This would be his mode of explain 
ing it. 

But what is meant by knowing better ? Did not tho 
brute and the man both know that the result of theii 
action would be harm? Did not both intend that it 
i^houkl be harm ? In what respect, then, did the on^ 
knov; better than the otlier ? 



OF MORAL ACTION. 31 

I think that a plain man or a child would answer, 

the man kneiu that he ought not to do it, and the bruto 
did not knoiu that he ought not to do it ; or he might 
say, the man knew, and the brute did not know, that it 
was wiong ; but whatever terms he might employ, they 
would involve the same idea. I do not know that a 
philosopher could give a more satisfactory answer. 

If the question, then, be asked, What is a moral ac- 
tion ? we may answer, it is the voluntary action of an 
intelligent agent, who is capable of distinguishing be- 
tween right and wrong, or of distinguishing what he 
ought, from what he ought not, to do. 

It is, however, to be remarked, that, although action 
is defined to be the putting forth of power, it is not 
intended to be asserted that the moral quality exists 
only where poiver is actually exerted. It is manifest 
that our thoughts and resolutions may be deserving 
either of praise or of blame ; that is, may be either 
right or wi^ong, where they do not appear in action. 
When the will decides upon the performance of an 
action, though the act cannot be done, the omniscient 
Deity justly considers us as either virtuous or vicious. 

From what has been said, it may be seen that there 
exists in the actions of m.en an element which does 
not exist in the actions of brutes. Hence, though both 
are subjects of government, the government of the one 
should be constructed upon principles diiferent from 
those of the other. Wo can operate upon brutes cnlj 
by fear of punishment aiid hope of reward. We car 
operate upon man not only in this manji'or^ but alsr 
by an appeal to his consciousness of right and wrong 
and by the use of such means as m^y ^*mpiov<j hi? 
moral nature. Hence, all modes of punishment which 
treat men as we treat brutes, are as unphilosophical as 
they are thoughtless, cruel, and vindictive. Such are 
those systems of criminal jurisprudence which have 
in view nothing more than the infliction of pain upon 
the offender. The leading object of all such systems 
should be to reclaim the vicious. Such was the r'^jsuJt 
to which all the investigations of Howard led 



32 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

And it is worthy of remark, that the Christian pre- 
cept respecting the treatment of injuries proceeds 
pi'ccisely upon this principle. The New Testament 
teaches us to love our enemies, to do good to those that 
hate us, to overcome evil with good ; that is, to set 
before a man who does wrong the strongest possible 
exemplification of the opposite moral quality — right. 
Now it is manifest that nothing would be so likely to 
show to an injurious person the turpitude of his own 
conduct, and to produce in him self-reproach and re- 
pentance, as precisely this sort of moral exhibition. 
Revenge and retaliation might, or might not, prevent a 
repetition of the injury to a particular individual. The 
requiting of evil with good, in addition to this effect, 
has an inherent tendency to produce sorrow for the act, 
and dislike to its moral quality ; and thus, by produc- 
ing a change of character, to prevent the repetition of 
the offence under all circumstances hereafter. 



SECTION III. 

IN WHAT PART OF AN ACTION DO WE DISCOVER ITS MORAL 
QUALITY ? 

In a deliberate action, four distinct elements may be 
commonly observed. These are — 

1. The outward act ; as when I put money into the 
hands of another. 

2. The conception of this act, of which the external 
performance is the mere bodying forth. 

3. The resolution to carry that conception into effect. 

4. The intention, or design, with which all this is 
done. 

Now, the moral quality does not belong to the exter- 
nal act ; for the same external act may be performed 
by two men, while its moral character is in the two 
cases entirely dissimilar. 



OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF AN ACTION. 33 

Nor does it belong to the conception of the external 
act, nor to the resolution to carry that conception into 
eifect ; for the resolution to perform "an action can liave 
no other character than that of the action itself. It 
must, then, reside in the intention. 

That such is the fact, may be illustrated by an ex- 
ample. A and B both give to C a piece of money. 
They both conceived of this action before they performed 
it. They both resolved to do precisely what they did. 
In all this both actions coincide. A, however, gave 
it to C, with the intention of procuring the murder of 
a friend ; B, with the intention of relieving a family in 
distress. It is evident that, in this case, the intention 
gives to the action its character as right or wrong. 

That the moral quality of the action resides in the 
intention, may be evident from various other considera- 
tions. 

1. By reference to the intention^ we inculpate or ex- 
culpate others, or ourselves, without any respect to the 
happiness or misery actually produced. Let the result 
of an action be what it may, we hold a man guilty 
simply on the ground of intention, or on the same 
ground we hold him innocent. Thus also of ourselves 
We are conscious of guilt or of innocence, not from the 
result of an action, but from the intention by which we 
were actuated. 

2. We always distinguish between being the instru- 
ment of good, and intending it. We are grateful to 
one who is the cause of good, not in proportion to the 
amount effected, but the amount intended. 

Intention may be wrong in various ways. 

1. As, for instance, where we intend to injure another ; 
as in cruelty, malice, revenge, deliberate shinder. 

Here, however, it may bo remarked, that we may 
intend to inflict pain, without intending wrong ; for 
we may be guilty of the violation of no right. Sucli 
is the case when pain is inflicted by a civil officer for 
the purposes of justice ; for it is manifest that if the man 
deserve pain, it is no violation of right for him to in- 
flict it. Hence we see the difference between harm. 



34 THEOEETICAL ETHICS. 

injury^ and punishment. We harm another when we 
actually inflict pain ; we injure him when we inflict 
pain in violation of his rights ; we punish him when we 
inflict pain which he deserves, and to which he has 
been properly adjudged ; and in so doing there is, 
therefore, no violation of right. 

2. Intention is wrong, where we act for the gratifi- 
cation of our own passions, without any respect to tho 
happiness of others. Such is the case of seduction, 
ambition, and in nations, commonly, of war. Every 
man is bound to restrain the indulgence of his passions 
within such hmits that they will work no ill to his 
neighbor. If they actually inflict injury, it is no ex- 
cuse to say that he had no ill-will to the individual 
injured. The Creator never conferred on him the right 
to destroy another's happiness for his own gratification. 

3. As the right and wrong of an action reside in the 
intention, it is evident that, where an action is intended, 
though it be not actually performed, that intention is 
worthy of praise or blame, as truly as the action itself, 
provided the action itself be wholly out of our power. 
Thus God rewarded David for intending to build the 
temple, though he did not permit him actually to build 
it. So, he who intends to murder another, though he 
may fail to execute his purpose, is, in the sight of God, 
a murderer. The meditation upon wickedness with 
pleasure comes under the same condemnation. 

4. As the right or wrong exists in the intention, 
wherever a particular intention is essential to virtuous 
action, the performance of the external act, without 
that intention, is destitute of the element of virtue. 
Thus, a child is bound to obey his parents, with the 
intention of thus manifesting his love and gratitude. 
If ho do it from fear, or from hope of gain, the act is 
destitute of the virtue of filial obedience, and becomes 
merely the result of passion or self-interest. And thus 
our Saviour charges upon the Jews the want of the 
proper intention in all their dealings with God. " I 
know you," said he, " that ye have not the love oj God 
in you." 



OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS. 35 

And, again, it is manifest that our moral feelings, 
like our taste, may be excited by the conceptions of 
our own imagination, scarcely less than by the reality. 
These, therefore, may develop moral character. He 
who meditates with pleasure upon fictions of pollution 
and crime, whether originating with himself or with 
others, renders it evident that nothing but opposing 
circumstances prevents him from being himself an ac- 
tor in the crime which he loves. And still more, as tho 
moral character of an action resides in the intention, 
and as whatever tends to corrupt the intention must be 
wrong, the meditating with pleasure upon vice, which 
has manifestly this tendency, must be wrong also. 

And here let me add, that the imagination of man is 
the fruitful parent both of virtue and vice. Thus saith 
the wise man, " Keep thy heart with all diligence, for 
out of it are the issues of life." No man becomes 
openly a villain until his imagination has become fa- 
miliar with conceptions of villany. The crimes which 
astonish us by their atrocity were first arranged and 
acted and reacted in the recesses of the criminal's own 
mind. Let the imagination, then, be most carefully 
guarded, if we wish to escape from temptation, and 
make progress in virtue. Let no one flatter himself 
that he is innocent, if he love to meditate upon any- 
thing which he would blush to avow before men, or fear 
to unveil before God. 



SECTION IV. 

WHENCE DO WE DERIVE OUR NOTION OF THE MORAL QUALITl 
OF ACTIONS ? 

Before we attempt to answer this question, let us 
first inquire wliether our notion of the moral quality of 
actions be original or derived. 

By an original idea, I mean an idea which arises 



36 ■ THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

fepontaiieously in the human mind, by virtue of the 
constitution with which we were created, as soon as its 
appropriate object is presented. Thus, the idea of 
color arises in us spontaneously as soon as a colored 
object is presented to our vision. No one can convey the 
idea of color to a blind man. Let him, however, be 
endowed with sight, and as soon as a colored object is 
presented to him, the notion of color immediately 
arises. A derived idea, on the contrary, is the result 
of some preceding intellectual exercise. Thus, the 
idea that the three angles of a triangle are equal to 
two right angles, is a derived idea. Before I knew sucl: 
to be the fact, I had seen a hundred triangles, but this 
idea never arose in my mind. Afterwards, when I had 
studied Euclid's Elements, I passed through several 
mental acts which, together, resulted in the conviction 
that such a relation exists. 

Now, as all our ideas must be either original or de- 
rived, the question arises. To which of these classes 
does the moral idea — the idea of right and wrong — 
belong ? 

In attempting to answer this question, let us ap- 
peal, in the first place, to our own consciousness. We 
are all familiar with the ideas which we denominate 
right and wrong. In the first place, I think that these 
ideas are generically distinct from any others which we 
can contemplate. Compare them with the ideas of 
beauty and deformity, of utility and inutility, of joy 
and grief, of wisdom and folly, and the dissimilarity 
to which we refer must be at once obvious. The moral 
idea forms a class by itself entirely distinct from every 
other. 

Secondly. The idea of right and wrong arises sponta- 
neously whenever the appropriate objects are presented 
to us. Such objects are the actions of intelligent be- 
ings. A judge sentences to death a man whom he 
knows to be innocent ; and as soon as we learn the facts, 
the idea of wrong arises unbidden within us. Another 
man employs his time and income in ministering to 
the perishing, whether his friends or enemies. As we 



OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS- 37 

contemplate sucli a life, there arises within iis the no- 
tion of virtue, right, moral goodness. These ideas are 
not derived from reasoning. They are the necessary 
result of no previous mental state. There is nothing 
that intervenes between the cognition of the act and 
the spontaneous existence of the moral idea. The will 
cannot create it, nor can the will prevent its existence. 
If we are asked what is the cause of the rise of this 
idea under these circumstances, we can only answer we 
do not know ; but such is the constitution by which we 
were endowed by our Creator. 

We may also remark, in passing, that this idea arises 
only from the contemplation of the actions of intelli- 
gent beings. We never discover right or wrong, virtue 
or vice, in the actions of brutes. Nor is this idea oc- 
casioned by all the actions of men. For instance, a 
man in a shower shelters himself from rain by opening 
his umbrella. He uses the proper means for the ac- 
complishment of an end, and we say he acts icisely. 
We discover neither right nor wrong in the action. 
But if we see him steal an umbrella, there arises at 
once a different idea, the idea of wrong. Or, again, 
let him give up his umbrella to shelter- a sick stranger 
from exposure, the idea of virtue, of right, arises at 
once — the opposite of that to which we last alluded. 

Again. If it be said that the moral idea is derived, 
that is, that, like the mathematical idea to which we 
Jiave already referred, it is a necessary result from pre- 
rious states of mind, the previous states of mind must 
oe designated from which it emanates. I do not be- 
lieve that this can be done. Indeed, if a man could not 
dic-cover ihe quality of right and wrong in the actions 
'■^f men, he could no more arrive at^ knowledge of it 
]:»y previous acts of mind than a blind man could attain 
ihe cognition of color by argument or illustration. 

It seems, then, apparent. that the idea of right and 



wrong, of "the moral idea, arises spontaneously within 
us m virtue of the constitution with which we were 
endowed by our Creator, whenever its appropriate 
"objects arc present to our contemplation. 
4 



38 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

If this be so, it is plain that the moral idea is not 
derived from an exercise of the judgment, as some 
persons have supposed. Judgment can do no more 
than affirm a predicate of a subject, as that grass is 
green, or that an assertion is true. But the ideas of 
the predicate and subject must already have existed in 
the mind before a judgment could have been pro- 
nounced. Judgment could not account for the exist- 
ence of an idea which must have been present to the 
mind before any act of judgment was possible. Nor, 
from a similar reason, can the idea of right and wrong 
be derived from association. Association can do no 
more than cause a desire or emotion or conception to 
be awakened by one object in preference to another. 
It can originate nothing, but can only act upon the 
ideas already present in the mind ; and acts in different 
men in the most dissimilar manner, and differently, 
even in the same man, under dissimilar circumstances. 
There is nothing analogous to this in the rise of our 
ideas of right and wrong. 

It has been said that an idea of right and wrong is 
derived from the idea of the greatest amount of happi- 
ness. Let us briefly consider this view of the subject. 

First. When we appeal to our own consciousness, I 
think we must decide that the ideas are wholly dissimi- 
lar. They seem to me as different from each other as 
the ideas of form and color, of beauty and utility, or 
any other dissimilar ideas. 

Secondly. If it be true that one gives origin to the 
other, then the idea of right and wrong can never ex- 
ist unless it be preceded by the idea of the greatest 
amount of happiness. I appeal to the human conscious- 
ness, and ask. Is this the fact ? When the idea of wrong 
is called into existence by the commission of crime, or 
the returning evil for good, do we find that we previ- 
ously determine that such an act would not be produc- 
tive of the greatest amount of happiness ? For myself, 
I must confess I can discover no such connections. 

Thirdly. How can any finite being ever decide that any 
action will or will not produce the greatest amount of 



OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS. 3^ 

happiness ? Of tlie future we are manifestly ignorant. 
Unless we know the consequences which would flow 
from two actions respectively throughout eternity, we 
could never determine which of the two would produce 
the greatest amount of happiness ; that is, which was 
right and which was wrong. 

Fourthly. Were we to determine the moral character 
of an action by the amount of happiness which it would 
produce, it would, I fear, tend to destroy all moral dis- 
tinctions ; for sometimes atrocious crimes have, in the 
long run, been the occasion of the happiest results. If 
an action is right because it produces the greatest 
amount of happiness, we must award to the treachery 
of Judas the praise of the greatest virtue. 

The question tlien returns, Whence do we derive our 
idea of right and wrong, or our notion of the moral 
quality of actions ? The view which we take of this 
subject is briefly as follows : 

The moral idea, being original and simple, is incapa- 
ble of definition. Like any other original idea, it arises 
by virtue of the constitution bestowed upon us by the 
Creator, wherever its appropriate objects are presented 
to our contemplation. The question, then, to be an- 
swered is, ^Vhat are the appropriate objects, on the 
contemplation of which the moral idea arises ? 

The answer which we venture to propose to this 
question is the following : 

1. It is manifest to every one that we all stand in 
various and dissimilar relations to all the sentient be- 
ings, created and uncreated, with which we are ac- 
quainted. Among our relations to created beings are 
those of man to man, or that of substantial equality, of 
parent and child, of benefactor and recipient, of hus- 
band and wife, of brother and brother, citizen and 
citizen, citizen and magistrate, and a thousand others. 
-^2. Now, it seems to me that, as soon as a human 
being comprehends the relation in which two human 
beings stand to each other, there arises in his mind a 
consciousness of moral obligation, connected, by our 
Creator, with the very conception of this relation. And 



40 TIIE'.)RETICAT. ETHICS. 

the fact is tlie same, whether he he one of the parlies 
or not. The nature of this feeling is, that tlie one 
ought to exercise certain dispositions towards the otliers 
to whom he is tlius related, and to act towards them in 
a manner corresponding with those dispositions. 

3. The nature of these dispositions varies, of course, 
with the relations. Thus, those of a parent to a child 
are different from those of a child to a parent ; those 
of a benefactor to a recipient, from those of a recipient 
to a benefactor : and both of them differ from that of a 
brother to a brother, or of a master to a servant. But, 
different as these may be from each other, they are ali 
pervaded by the same generic feehng, that of moral ob- 
ligaiion ; that is, we feel that we ought to be thus or 
thus disposed, and to act in this or that manner. 

4. This I suppose to be our constitution, in regard to 
created beings ; and such do I suppose would be oni 
feelings, irrespectively of any notion of the Deity. That 
is, upon the conception of these and such like relations, 
there would immediately arise this feeling of moral ob- 
ligation, to act towards those sustaining those relations 
in a particular manner. 

5. But there is an Uncreated Being, to whom we 
stand in relations infinitely more intimate and incon- 
ceivably more solemn, than any of those of which we 
have spoken. It is tliat Infinite Being who stands to 
us in the relation of Creator, Preserver, Benefactor, 
Lawgiver, and Judge ; and to whom we stand in the 
relation of dependent, helpless, ignorant, and sinful 
creatures. How much this relation involves, we cannot 
possibly know ; but so much as this we know, that it 
involves obligations greater than our intellect can esti- 
mate. We cannot contemplate it without feeling that 
from the very fact of its existence we are under obliga- 
tions to entertain the disposition of filial love and obe- 
dience towards God, and to act precisely as he shall 
condescend to direct. And this obligation arises sim- 
ply from the fact of the relation existing between the 
parties, and irrespectively of any other consideration ; 
and if it be not felt, when the relations are perceived, it 



OF THE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS. 41 

can never be produced by any view of the consequences 
which would arise to the universe from exercising it 

6. This rehition, and its consequent obligation, in- 
voice, comprehend, and transcend every other. Hence 
it places obligation to man upon a new foundation. 
For if we be ourselves thus under illimitable obligations 
to God, and if, by virtue of the relation which he sus- 
tains to the creation, he is the Protector, Ruler, and 
Proprietor of all, we are under obligations to obey 
him in everything. And as every other being is also 
his creature, we are bound to treat that creature as he 
its Proprietor shall direct. Hence we are bound to 
perform the obligation under which we stand to his 
creatures, not merely on account of our relations to 
them, but also on account of the relations in which we 
and the?/ stand to God. 

And hence, in general, our feeling of moral obliga- 
tion is a peculiar and instinctive impulse, arising at 
once by the principles of our constitution, 'as soon as 
the relations are perceived in which we stand to the 
beings, created and uncreated, with whom we are con- 
nected. 

The proof of this must rest, as I am aware, with every 
man's consciousness. A few illustrative remarks may, 
however, not be altogether useless. 

I think, if we reflect upon the subject, that the man- 
ner in which we attempt to awaken moral feelings con- 
firms the \iew which I have taken. In such a case, 
if I mistake not, ive always place before the mind the 
relation in which the parties stand to each other. 

1. If we wish to awaken in ourselves gratitude to 
another, we do not reflect that this affection will pro- 
duce the greatest good ; but we remember the individ- 
ual in the relation of benefactor ; and we place this 
relation in the strongest possible light. If this will not 
produce gratitude, our effort, of necessity, fails. 
• 2. If we desire to inflame moral indignation against 
crime, we show the relations in which the parties stand 
to each other, and expect hence to produce a convio 
4* 



42 THEORETICAL ETinCS. 

tioii of the greatness of the obligation wliich such tur- 
pitude violates. 

3. So, if we wish to overcome evil with good, we 
place ourselves in the relation of benefactor to the inju- 
rious person ; and, in spite of himself, he is frequently 
compelled to yield to the law of his nature ; and grati- 
tude for favors, and sorrow for injury, spontaneously 
arise in his bosom. 

4. And in the plan of man's redemption it seems to 
me that the Deity has acted on this principle. Irre- 
spectively of a remedial dispensation, he is known to us 
only as a Creator, all-wise and all-powerful, perfect in 
holiness, justice, and truth. To our fallen nature these 
attributes could minister nothing but terror. lie, there- 
fore, has revealed himself to us in the relation of a Sa- 
viour and Redeemer, a God forgiving transgression and 
iniquity ; and thus, by all the power of this new rela- 
tion, he imposes upon us new obligations to gratitude, 
repentance, and love. 

5. And hence it is that God always asserts, that as, 
from the fact of this new relation^ our obligations to 
him are increased ; so he who rejects the gospel is, in 
a special manner, a sinner, and is exposed to a more 
terrible condemnation. The climax of all that is awful 
in the doom of the unbelieving is expressed by the 
terms, " the wrath of the Lamb." 

Again. I am not much accustomed to such refined 
speculations ; but I think that obedience or love to 
God, from any more ultimate motive than that this 
affection is due to him because he is God, and our God, 
is not piety. Thus, if a child say, I will obey my fa- 
ther, because it is for the happiness of the family ; what 
the character of this action would be I am not prepared 
to say ; but I think the action would not be fllial obedi- 
ence. Filial obedience is the obeying of another be- 
cause he is my father ; and it is filial obedience only 
in so far as it proceeds from this motive. This will ba 
evident if we substitute for the love of the happiness 
of the family, the love of money, or some other such 
motive. Every one sees that it would not hQ filial obe- 



0J5 fHE MORAL QUALITY OF ACTIONS. 43 

dience for a child to obey his parent because he would 
be ivell paid for it. 

Now, it seems to me that the same principle applies 
in the other case. To feel under obligation to love 
God because this affection would be productive of the 
greatest good, and not on account of what he is, and of 
the relations in which he stands to us, seems to me not 
to hepiet?/ ; that is, not to be the feeling which a creature 
is bound to exercise towards his Creator. If the obliga- 
tion to the love of God can really arise from anything 
more ultimate than the essential relation which he sus- 
tains to us, why may not this more ultimate motive be 
something else as well as the love of the greatest good ? 
I do not say that anything else would be as benevolent ; 
but I speak metaphysically, and say, that if real piety 
or love to God may truly spring from any thing more 
ultimate than God himself, I do not see why it may not 
spring from one thing as well as from another; and 
thus true piety might spring from various and dissimi- 
lar motives, no one of which has any real reference to 
God himself. 

My view of this subject, in few words, is as follows : 

1. We stand in relations to the several beings with 
whom we are connected, such, that some of them, as 
soon as they are conceived, suggest to us the idea of 
moral obligation. 

2. Our relations to owe felloiu-men suggest this con- 
viction, in a limited and restricted sense, correspond- 
ing to the idea of general or essential equality. 

3. The relation in which we stand to the Deity sug- 
gests the conviction of universal and unlimited love and 
obedience. This binds us to proper dispositions to- 
wards Him, and also to such dispositions towards his 
creatures as he shall appoint. 

4. Hence, our duties to man are enforced by a two- 
fold obligation : first, because of our relations to man as 
man ; and secondly, because of our relation to man as 
being, with ourselves, a creature of God. 

5. And hence an act which is performed in obedience 
to our obligations to man, maybe virtuous; but it is 



44 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

not pious unless it also be performed in obedience to 
our obligations to God. 

6. And hence we see that two things are necessary 
in order to constitute any being a moral agent. They 
are, first, that he possess an intellectual power, by which 
he can understand the relation in which he stands to 
the beings by whom he is surrounded ; secondly, that 
he possess a moral power by which the feeling of obli- 
gation is suggested to him, as soon as the relation in 
which he stands is understood. This is sufficient to 
render him a moral agent. He is accountable just in 
proportion to the opportunity which he has enjoyed for 
acquiring a knowledge of the relations in which he 
stands, and of the manner in which his obligations are to 
be discharged. 



^ 



CHAPTER II. 

CONSCIENCE, OB THE MORAL SENSE. 

SECTION /. 

IS THERE A CONSCIENCE ? 

By Conscience, or the moral sense, is meant that 
faculty by which we discern the moral quality of actions, 
and by which we are capable of certain affections in 
respect to this quality. 

By faciui?/ is meant any particular part of our con- 
stitution by which we become aifected by the various 
qualities and relations of beings around us. Thus, by 
taste, we are conscious of the existence of beauty and 
deformity ; by perception, we acquire a knowledge of 
the existence and qualities of the material world. And, 
in general, if we discern any quality in the universe, or 
produce or suffer any change, it seems almost a truism 
to say that we have a faculty, or power, for so doing. 
A man who sees, must have eyes, or the faculty for see- 
ing ; and if he have not eyes^ this is considered a suf'_ 
ficient reason why he should not see. And thus it is 
universally admitted that there may be a thousand 
qualities in nature of which we have no knowledge, for 
the simple reason that we have not been created with 
the faculties for discerning them. There is a world 
without us and a world within us, which exactly cor- 
respond to each other. Unless both exists we can never 
be conscious of the existence of either. 

Now, that we do actually observe a moral quality in 
the actions of men, must, I think, be admitted. Every 



4G THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

luiiuaii being is conscious that, from childhood, lie has 
observed it. We do not say that all men discern this 
quality with equal accuracy, any more than that they 
all see with equal distinctness ; but we say that all men 
perceive it in some actions, and that there is a multi- 
tude of cases in which their perceptions of it will be 
found universally to agree. And, moreover, this qual- 
ity, and the feeling w^hich accompanies the perception 
of it, are unlike those derived from every other faculty. 

The question would then seem reduced to this : Do 
we perceive this quality of actions by a single faculty, 
or by a combination of faculties ? I think it must be 
evident, from what has already been stated, that this 
notion is, in its nature, simjole and ultimate, and dis- 
tinct from every other notion. Now, if this be the case, 
it seems self-evident that we must have a distinct and 
separate faculty to make us acquainted with the exist- 
ence of this distinct and separate quality. This is the 
case in respect to all other distinct and original qualities ; 
it is, surely, reasonable to suppose that it would be the 
case with this, unless some reason can be shown to the 
contrary. 

But, after all, this question is, to the moral philoso- 
pher, of but comparatively Little importance. All that 
is necessary to his investigations is, that it be admitted 
that there is such a quality, and that men are so con- 
sti^.uted as lo perceive it, and to be susceptible of 
certain affections in consequence of that perception. 
Whether these facts are accounted for on the supposi- 
tion of the existence of a single faculty, or a combina- 
tion of faculties, will not affect the question of moral 
obligation. If it be granted that we do actually recog- 
nize moral distinctions, and feel the pressure of moral 
obligation, it matters little whether in thus acting we 
make use of one power of tb? mind or of several. 

It may, however, be worth while to consider some of 
the objections which have been urged against the sup- 
position of the existence of such a faculty. 

I. It has been said, if such a faculty has been be- 
stowed, it must have been bestowed universally : but il 



IS THERF A CONSCIENCE? 47 

is not bestowed universally ; for what some nation? 
consider rigiit, other nations consider wrong : as infanti- 
cide, parricide, duelling, etc. 

1. To this it mxy be answered, first, the objection 
seems to admit tlie universality of the existence of con- 
science, or the power of discerning in certain actions a 
moral quality. It admits that everywhere men make 
this distinction, but affirms that in different countries 
they refer the quality to different actions. Now, how 
this difference is to be accounted for, may be a question ; 
but the fact as stated in the objection shows the uni- 
versality of the power of observing such a quality in 
actions. 

2. But, secondly, we have said that we discover the 
moral quality of actions in the intention. Noiu it is not 
the fact that this difference exists, as stated in the ob- 
jection, if the intention of actions be considered. Where 
was it not considered right to intend the happiness of 
parents ? Where was it not considered wrong to intend 
their misery ? Where was it ever considered right to 
intend to requite kindness by injury ? and where was 
it ever considered wrong to intend to requite kindness 
with still greater kindness ? In regard to the manner 
in which these intentions may be fuljilled, there may be 
a difference ; but as to the moral quality of these inten' 
tions themselves, as well as of many others, there is a 
very universal agreement among men. 

3. And still more, it will be seen, on examination, 
that in these very cases in which wrong actions are 
practised, they are justified on the ground of a good 
intention, or of some view of the relations between the 
parties, which, if true, would render them, innocent. 
T]ms, if infanticide be justified, it is on the ground 
that this world is a place of misery, and that the infant 
is better off not to encounter its troubles ; that is, that 
the parent wishes or intends well to the child : or 
else it is defended on the ground that the relation be- 
tween the parent and child is such as to confer on the 
one the right of life and death over the other ; andj 
Uiercfore, that to take its life i^ as innocent as the slay- 



48 THEtjRETICAL ETHICS. 

iiig of a brute or the destruction of a vegetable. Tims 
also are parricide, and revenge, and various other 
wrong actions defended. Where can the race of men 
be found, be they ever so savage, who need to be told 
that ingratitude is wrong, that parents ought to love 
tlieir children, or that men ought to be submissive and 
obedient to the Supreme Divinity ? 

4. And still more, I think one of the strongest exem- 
plifications of the universality of moral distinctions is 
found in the character of many of the ancient heathen. 
They perceived these distinctions, and felt and obeyed 
the impulses of conscience, even though at variance 
with all the examples of the deities whom they wor- 
shipped. Tiius, says Rousseau, " Cast your eyes over 
all the nations of the world, and all the histories of 
nations. Amid so many inhuman and absurd supersti- 
tions, amid that prodigious diversity of manners and 
characters, you will find everywhere the same principles 
and distinctions of moral good and evil. The paganism 
2>f the ancient world produced, indeed, abominable gods, 
who on earth would have been shunned or punished 
as monsters ; and who offered, as a picture of supreme 
happiness, only crimes to commit, or passions to satiate. 
But Vice, armed with this sacred authority, descended 
in vain from the eternal abode. She found in the heart 
of man a 7noral instinct to repel her. The continence 
of Xenocrates was admired by those who celebrated the 
debaucheries of Jupiter. The chaste Lucretia adored 
the unchaste Yenus. The most intrepid Eoman sacri- 
ficed to fear. He invoked the god who dethroned his 
father, and died without a murmur by the hand of his 
own. The most contemptible divinities were served by 
the greatest men. The holy voice of nature, stronger 
than that of the gods, made itself heard, and respected, 
'^nd obeyed on the earth, and seemed to banish to the 
ionfines of heaven guilt and the guilty." Quoted by 
Dr. Brown, Lecture 75. 

II. Again, the objection has been made in another 
form. It is said that savages violate, without remorse 
Qr compunction^ the plainest principles of right. Sucli 



IS THERE A CONSCIENCE ? 49 

is the case when they are guilty of revenge and licen- 
tiousness. 

This objection has been partly considered before. It 
may, however, be added, 

First. No men, nor any class of men, violate every 
moral precept without compunction, without the feeling 
of guilt, and the consciousness of desert of punishment. 

Secondly. Hence the objection will rather prove the 
existence of a defective or imperfect conscience, than 
that no such faculty exists. The same objection would 
prove us destitute of taste or of understanding ; because 
these faculties exist only in an imperfect state among 
savages and uncultivated men. 

III. It has been objected, again, that if we suppose 
this faculty to exist, it is, after all, useless ; for if a man 
please to violate it, and to suffer the pain, then this is 
the end of the question, and, as Dr. Paley says, " the 
moral mstinct man has nothing more to offer." 

To this it may be answered : 

The objection proceeds upon a mistake respecting the 
function of conscience. Its use is to teach us to dis- 
cern our moral obligations, and to impel us towards 
the corresponding action. It is not pretended, by the 
believers in a moral sense, that man may not, after all, 
do as he chooses. All that they contend for is, that he 
is constituted with such a faculty, and that the posses- 
sion of it is necessary to his moral accountability. It 
is in his power to obey it or to disobey it, just as he 
pleases. The fact that a man may obey or disobey con- 
science, no more proves that it does not exist, than the 
fact that he sometimes does and sometimes does not 
obey passion, proves that he is destitute of passion: 
5 



50 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 



SECTION II. 

OF THE STATES OF MIND WHICH IMMEDIATELY EMANATE 
FROM THE IDEA OF EIGHT AND WRONG. 

We have thus far considered that part of the action 
of conscience which discovers to us the quality of a 
human action as either right or wrong. We cannot, 
however, have failed to observe that as soon as this idea 
presents itself, other ideas accompany or follow it, with- 
out any will of our own, but purely in obedience to the 
laws of our moral constitution. To these let us attend. 

1. In the first place, as soon as we perceive in an 
action a moral quality, there arises within us the feeling 
of obligation. If it be right, we feel an obligation to do 
it ; if it be wrong, an obligation to refrain from doing it. 
This feeling of obligation we designate by the terms 
ought and ought not. We always consider the quality 
of the action as the necessary cause of the obligation. 
Thus we say it is wrong to lie, therefore I ought not to 
lie ; it is right to relieve the helpless, therefore I ought 
to do it. We see that right or wrong- are qualities of 
Uie action; ought and ought not designate the mental 
^tate of the moral agent who takes cognizance of these 
qualities. 

2. Intimately connected with this feeling of ought 
and ought not is the impulse to do or not to do the 
action in which we observe the moral quality. If the 
action is right, and we feel that we ought to do it, we 
are sensible of an impulse to do it. It is as though a 
voice within us was advising and sometimes even virging 
us to act; as if it said. Do it, do it : and if the action is 
wrong, and we feel that we ought not to do it, the voice 
within us is, Do it not, do it not. Tlie action of con- 
science is in this respect analogous to that of passion. 
Tluis, when by a particular act we can gratify a passion, 
whether the act be right or wrong, passion urges us to 
do it. And thus it comes to pass that passion and con- 



or THE IDEA OF RIGHT AND WRONG. Ol 

science are frequently brougl-it into direct collision. 
Conscience perceives in the act which passion urges us 
to do the element of wrong, and forbids us, saying, 
Do it not. The human being is thus placed between 
two impulses, free to determine to which he will yield, 
and it is upon this determination that his moral charac- 
ter depends. 

3. This determination and its consequent action aro 
attended by results either pleasant or painful. If we 
have successfully resisted the impulse of passion, and 
thus escaped temptation by obeying the impulse of con- 
science, this of itself is not only a source of pleasure, 
but pleasure of a peculiar kind. It is not like the 
pleasure derived from the sight of a beautiful object, or 
from the successful pursuit of truth. It is the pleasure 
of innocence, of the consciousness of right, of victory 
over our inner propensities, and of just approbation and 
consciousness of good desert. If, on the contrary, we 
have obeyed the impulse of passion, and disobeyed the 
impulse of conscience, the pain which we suffer is also 
distinct and peculiar. It is the pain of self-disapproba- 
tion, of shame, of consciousness of guilt, which we can- 
not wash away ; of desert of punishment, which, much 
as we may desire it, we know not how to escape. Cor- 
respondent feelings are awakened by an act either of 
right or wrong, when done by another. If he have done 
right, we feel for him a sentiment of respect and love, 
a desire to do him good, a hope and feeling that he will 
be somehow rewarded. If he have done wrong by 
obeying his passions instead of his conscience, we in- 
stinctively perceive that he has sunk by one step nearer 
to the level of brutes. We shrink from him with dis- 
respect ; we feel that he has deserved punishment ; that 
he must yet meet it, and not unfrequently desire to 
punish him ourselves. And more than this : he who 
has done wrong feels that he deserves all this, and that 
if all the facts were known, all men would feel thus 
towards him. 

4. Another state of mind wliich arises from the con- 
templation of the moral idea is expectation. We always 



62 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

expect some consequence to follow it. In this resiiect 1 
think the moral idea differs from any other of which we 
are conscious. No other idea has respect to the future, 
or gives rise to any other distinct from itself. Thus, we 
look upon a beautiful object ; we are pleased : we after- 
wards, in an inferior degree, repeat the same pleasure 
by recollection. But here it ends. We look upon an 
ugly object ; it displeases us ; and the feeling of dislike 
may, as in the other case, be repeated by recollection : 
but it goes no farther. Another and different idea is 
not necessarily connected by our constitution with 
either. 

5. This expectation, moreover, is of a definite char' 
acter, I say definite ; but by this I do not mean that 
we expect any particular event, but that events of a 
definite character will follow the doing of good, and 
that events of an opposite character will follow the do- 
ing of evil. We feel that such consequences are indis- 
solubly linked to moral actions by a power which we can 
neither resist nor elude. We may strive to drown the 
memory of a crime, but we cannot forget it ; and when- 
ever it arises to our recollection, it is ever accompanied 
by the conviction that justice has a claim upon us, which 
somehow and somewhere must be satisfied. 

6. This connection of the opposite results of dissim- 
ilar actions is unchangeable. We expect happiness as 
the reward of virtue, and misery as the wages of vice ; 
and we cannot reverse them. To suppose an act of 
disinterested goodness to be punishable, and an act of 
deliberate wickedness to be deserving of reward, and 
that this connection is a part of the constitution under 
which we are created, is unthinkable. A moral govern- 
ment established on such principles cannot be conceived. 
On the contrary, we are obliged to believe that happiness 
is unalterably connected with virtue, and misery as 
unalterably connected with vice. 

7. I say we expect this with certainty; but this is not 
all. When I place water in the temperature of zero, I 
expect with certainty that it will freeze. When I plant 
seed in the ground, I expect with certainty that, under 



OF THE IDEA OF RIGHT AKD WRONG. 53 

proper conditions, it will germinate. But in morals it 
is not merely certainty — it is something more. We feel 
not only that the appropriate consequent will, but that 
it MUST follow. Abolish this idea of the necessary con- 
nection between virtue and happiness, and wickedness 
and punishment, and all respect for the government of 
the universe would be prostrated. 

The absolute certainty of the coimection between virtue 
ind vice, and their appropriate consequences, gives rise 
to one of the finest passages in the English language : 

Against tlie threats 
Of malice, or of sorcery, or the power 
Which erring men call chance, this I hold firm: 
Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt; 
Surprised by unjust torce, but not enthralled; 
Yea, even that which mischief meant most harm. 
Shall in the happy trial prove most gloiy; 
But evil on itself shall back recoil, 
And mix no more with goodness; when, at last, 
Gathered like scum, and settled to itself, 
It shall be in eternal ceaseless change. 
Self-fed and self-consumed. If this fail, 
The pillared firmament is rottenness. 
And earth's base built on stubble. 

Comus, 585-598. 

tJ. And it is worthy of remark, that we derive a high 
dif^s^ee of pleasure from the contemplation of this con- 
nettion. We deliglit to see disinterested goodness 
rewarded, innocence protected, and wickedness over 
taken by its appropriate punishment. When virtuous 
men, u^der an arbitrary government, have been exposed 
to the vitmost peril, for no other cause than the pure 
love of liberty aiid law, their deliverance is an occasion 
for national exultation. ' A case of this kind is related 
by Lord M^caulay, in his account of the trial of the nine 
Bishops, in the time of James II. During this mem- 
orable trial, the interest of the people was intense. 
When the jury appeared to render their verdict, the peo- 
ple of London nv ere in breathless suspense. The verdict, 
and the manner of its reception, are thus described by 
the author in one of his most brilliant passages: 
6* 



54 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

" Sir Samuel Astry spoke : 'Do you find the defend 
ants, or any of tlicm, guilty of tlie misdemeanor whereof 
they are impeached, or not guilty ? ' Sir Roger Lajig- 
ley answered, ' Not guilty ! ' As the words passed his 
lips, Halifax sprang up and waved his hat. At that 
signal, benches and galleries raised a shout. In a 
moment, ten thousand persons who crowded the great 
hall replied with a still greater shout, which made the 
old oaken roof crack, and in another moment the innu- 
merable throng without set up a third huzza, which was 
heard at Temple Bar. The boats which covered the 
Thames gave an answering cheer. A peal of gun- 
powder was heard on the water, and another and another, 
and so in a few moments the glad tidings went flying 
past the Savoy and the Friars to London Bridge and the 
forest of masts below. As the news spread, streets and 
squares, market-places and coffee-houses, broke forth 
into acclamations. Yet were the acclamations less 
strange than the weeping ; for the feelings of men had 
been wound up to such a point, that at length the stern 
English nature, so little used to outward signs of emo- 
tion, gave way, and thousands sobbed aloud for very 
joy." — History of England, Vol. II., Chap. 8. 

This expectation of certain results which must inevi- 
tably follow moral action, is frequently alluded to by the 
poets. 

Thus Shakspeare puts into the mouth of Macbeth, 
when meditating the murder of Duncan, the following 
words : 

But in these cases, 
We still have judgment here ; that we but teach 
Blood)' instructions ; which, beini; taught, return 
To plague the inventor. This even-handed justice 
Commends the ingredients of the poisoned chahce 
To our own lips, 

Macbeth, Act i., Scene 7. 

9. The boldness of innocence and the timidity of guilt 
may both be traced to these facts in our moral con- 
stitution. The virtuous man is conscious of deserving 



OF THE IDEA OF EIGHT AND WRONG. 55 

from his fellow-men nothing but reward. Whom, then, 
should he fear ? The guilty man is conscious of desert 
of punishment, and is aware that as soon as his crime 
is known every one will desire to punish him, and he 
is never sure but that every one knows it. Whom, then, 
can he trust ? And still more, this consciousness of 
desert of punislnnent is attended by a feeling of self- 
disapprobation and remorse, which depresses the spirit, 
and prostrates the courage of the offender, more than even 
the external circumstances by which he is surrounded. 
Thus, says Solomon, " The wicked flee when no maD 
pursueth, but the righteous is bold as a lion." 

Thrice is lie armed who hath his quarrel Jusi ; 
And he but naked, though locked up in steel, 
Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted. 

Henry VL, Part 2, Act iu., Scene 2. 

We learn, also, from the nature of our moral consti- 
tution, the reason why crime is with so great certamty 
detected. 

A man, before the commission of a crime, can foresee 
no reason why he may not commit it without detection. 
He can perceive no reason why he should be suspected, 
and can imagine a thousand methods by which suspi- 
cion, if awakened, may be allayed. But he no sooner 
becomes guilty, than he finds his relations to his fel- 
low-men entirely reversed. He becomes suspicious of 
every one, and sees every occurrence through a false 
medium. He cannot act like an innocent man. He 
either does too much or too little ; and this difference in 
his conduct is frequently the means of his detection. 
When to this effect produced upon his own mind is 
added the fact, that every action must, by the condition 
of our being, be attended by antecedents and conse- 
quents wholly beyond our control, all of which lead direct- 
ly to the d iscovery of the truth ; it is not wonderful thai 
the guilty so rarely escape. Hence it has grown into a 
proverb, '^ Murder will out;" and such do we generallj: 
find to be the fact, --^ — 



50 THEORETICAL ETHICtJ. 

This effect of guilt upon character has been frequently 
remarked. 
Thus Macbeth, after the murder of Duncan : 

How is it with me when every noise appalls me? 

Macbeth, Act ii., Scene 2. 

Guiltiness will speak, though tongues were out of use. 
Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind; 
The thief doth fear each bush to be an officer. 

The same fact is frequently referred to in the sacred 
Scriptures. The wicked is snared in the work of his 
own hands. 

We hardly need remark that this expectation of con- 
sequences, necessarily connected with moral action, 
points us directly to a future life, and a day of certain 
retribution. We feel that goodness must be rewarded 
and wickedness punished, and that this retribution is 
inevitable. But this retribution takes place but imper- 
fectly in the present world ; there must, therefore, be 
another state of being, in which individuality shall be 
distinctly preserved, and an infallible tribunal, at which 
every action shall receive its due demerit at the hands 
of an omniscient and all-holy Judge. Thus saith the 
Scripture : " For we must all appear before the judg- 
ment-seat of Christ, that every one may receive the 
things done in his body according to that he hath done, 
whether it be good or bad " (2 Cor. v. 10). 

I close this section with the remarks of Mr. Webster 
m a trial for murder, as they powerfully enforce the view 
which we have taken on this subject. 

^' There is no evil that we cannot either face or fly 
from but the consciousness of duty disregarded. A 
sense of duty pursues us ever. It is omnipresent, like 
the Deity. If we take to ourselves the wings of the 
morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea^. 
duty performed or duty violated is still with us for our 
happiness or our misery. If we say the darkness shall 
cover us, in the darkness as in the light our obligations 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 57 

are still witli us. We cannot escape their power, nor 
fly from their presence. They are with us in this life, 
and they will be with us at its close ; and in that scene 
of inconceivable solemnity, which lies yet further on- 
ward, we shall still fijid ourselves surrounded by the 
consciousness of duty, to pain us whenever it has been 
violated, and to console us so far as God may have 
given us grace to perform it." ^ 



SECTION III. 

THE AUTHOEITY OF CONSCIENCE. 

We have thus far endeavored to show that there is 
in man a faculty denominated Conscience ; and that it 
is not merely a discriminating, but also an impulsive 
faculty. The next qaestion to be considered is, What is 
the authority of this impulse ? 

The object of the present section is to show that this 
is the most authoritative impulse of which we find our- 
selves susceptible. 

The supremacy of conscience may be illustrated in 
various ways. 

I. It is involved in the very conception which men 
form of this faculty. 

The various impulses of which we find ourselves sus- 
ceptible, can differ only in two respects, that of strength 
and that of authority. 

When we believe them to differ in nothing but strength, 
we feel ourselves perfectly at liberty to obey the strong- 
est. Thus, if different kinds of food be set before us, all 
equally healthful, we feel entirely at liberty to partake 
of that which we prefer ; that is-, of that to which we are 
most strongly impelled. If a man is to decide between 
making a journey by land, or by water, he considers it 

1 Works, Vol. vi., p. 105. Boston: Little & Brown, 1857. 



58 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

a sufficient motive for choiee, that the one mode of traV' 
elling is more pleasant to him than the other. But when 
our impulses differ in authority ^WQ feel obliged to neglect 
the difference in strength of impulse, and to obey that, 
be it ever so weak, which is of the higher authority. 
Thus, suppose our desire for any particular kind of food 
to be ever so strong, and we know that it would injure 
our health, self-love would admonish us to leave it 
alone. Now, self-love being a more authoritative im- 
pulse than passion, we feel an obligation to obey it, be 
its admonition ever so weak, and the impulse of appetite 
ever so vehement. If we yield to the impulse of appe- 
tite, be it ever so strong, in opposition to that of self- 
love, be it ever so weak, we feel a consciousness of self 
degradation, and of acting unworthily of our nature ; 
and if we see another person acting in this manner, we 
cannot avoid feeling towards him a sentiment of con- 
tempt. " 'Tis not in folly not to scorn a fool." And, 
in general, whenever we act in obedience to a lower, 
and in opposition to a higher sentiment, we feel this 
consciousness of degradation, which we do not feel when 
the impulses differ only in degree. And, conversely, 
whenever we feel this consciousness of degradation for 
acting in obedience to one instead of to another, we 
may know that we have violated that which is of the 
higher authority. 

If, now, we reflect upon our feelings consequent upon 
any moral action, I think we shall find that we always 
are conscious of a sentiment of self-degradation when- 
ever we disobey the monition of conscience, be that mo- 
nition ever so iveak^ to gratify the impulse of appetite, 
or passion, or self-love, be that impulse ever so strong. 
Do we consider it any palliation of the guilt of murdery 
for the criminal to declare that his vindictive feelings 
impelled him much more 'strongly than his conscience ? 
whereas, if we perceived in these impulses no otlier 
difference than that of strength^ we should consider this 
not merely an excuse, but a justification. And that 
the impulse of conscience is of the highest authority is 
evident from the fact tliat we cannot conceive of any 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 59 

cij'Ciimstances in which we should not feel guilty and 
degraded from acting in obedience to any impulse what- 
ever in opposition to it. And thus, we cannot conceive 
of any more exalted character than tha.t of him who, on 
all occasions, yields himself up implicitly to the im- 
pulses of conscience, all things else to the contrary not- 
withstanding. I think no higher evidence can be pro- 
duced to show that we do really regard the impulse of 
conscience as of higher authority than any other of 
which we are conscious. 

IT. The same truth may, I think, be rendered evident 
by observing the feelings which arise within us when 
we compare the actions of men with those of beings of 
an inferior order. 

Suppose a brute to act from appetite, and injure itself 
by gluttony ; or from passion, and injure another brute 
from anger : we feel nothing like moral disapprobation. 
Vre pity it, and strive to put it out of its power to act 
thus in future. We never feel that a brute is disgraced 
or degraded by such an action. But suppose a man to 
act thus, and we cannot avoid a feeling of disapproba- 
tion and of disgust ; a conviction that the man has done 
vi<.)lence to his nature. Thus, to call a man a brute, a 
sensualist, a glutton, is to speak to him in the most in- 
sulting manner: it is to say, in the strongest terms, that 
he has acted unworthily of himself, and of the nature 
with which his Creator has endowed him. 

Again. Let a brute act from deliberate selfishness ; 
that is, with deliberate caution seek its own happiness 
upon the whole, unmindful of the impulsions of present 
appetite, but yet wholly regardless of the happiness of 
any other of its species. In no case do we feel disgust 
at such a course of action ; and in many cases, we, on 
the contrary, rather regard it with favor. We thus 
speak of the cunning of animals in taking their prey, in 
escaping danger, and iu securing for themselves all the 
amount of gratification that may be in their power. 

We are sensible, in these cases, that the animal has 
acted from the highest impulses of which tlie Creatoi 
has made it susceptible. But" let a man act thus. .Let 



60 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

him, careful merely of his own hap,piness upon the 
R^hole, be careful for nothing else, and be perfectly wil- 
ling to sacrifice the happiness of others, to any amount 
whatsoever, to promote his own, to the least amount 
soever. Such has been, frequently, the character of 
sensual and unfeeling tyrants. We are conscious, in 
such a case, of a sentiment of disgust and deep disap- 
probation. We feel that the man has not acted in 
obedience to the highest impulses of which he was sus- 
ceptible ; and poets and satirists and historians unite 
in holding him up to the world as an object of universal 
detestation and abhorrence. 

Again. Let another man, disregarding the impulses 
of passion and appetite and self-love, act, under all 
circumstances, in obedience to the monitions of con- 
science, unmoved and unallured by pleasure, and un- 
awed by power ; and we instinctively feel that he has 
attained to the highest eminence to which our nature 
can aspire; and that he has acted from the highest 
impulse of which his nature is susceptible* We are con- 
scious of a conviction of his superiority, ^czoh nothing 
can outweigh ; of a feeling of veneration, allied to the 
reverence which is due to the Supreme Being. And 
with this homage to virtue all history is filled. The 
judge may condemn the innocent, but posterity will 
condemn the judge. The tyrant may murder the mar- 
tyr, but after-ages will venerate the martyr, and exe- 
crate the tyrant. And if we will look over the names 
of those on whom all past time has united in conferring 
the tribute of praise-worthiness, we shall find them to 
be the names of those who, although they might differ 
in other respects, yet were similar in this, that they 
shone resplendent in the lustre of unsullied virtue. 

Now, as our Creator has constituted us such as we 
are, and as by our very constitution we do thus con- 
sider conscience to be the most authoritative impulse 
of our nature, it must be the most authoritative, unless 
we believe that he has deceived us, or, which is the 
same thing, that he has so formed us as to give credit 
to a lie. 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 61 

III. The supremacy of conscience may be also illus- 
trated by showing the necessity of this supremacy to 
the accompUshment of the objects for which man was 
created. 

When we consider any work of art, as a system com- 
posed of parts, and arranged for the accomplishment of 
a given object, there are three several views which we 
may have of it, and all of them necessary to a complete 
and perfect knowledge of the thing. 

1. We must have a knowledge of the several parts 
of which it is composed. Tims, he who would under- 
stand a watch, must know the various wheels and 
•springs which enter into the formation of the instru- 
ment. But this alone, as, for instance, if they were 
spread separately before him upon a table, would give 
him a very imperfect conception of a watch. 

2. He mnst, therefore, understand how these parts 
are put together. This will greatly increase his knowl 
edge ; but it will still be imperfect, for he may yet be 
ignorant of the relations which the parts sustain to each 
other. A man might look at a steam boat until he 
was familiarly acquainted with its whole machinery, and 
yet not know whether the paddles were designed to 
move the piston-rod, or the piston-rod to move the 
paddles. 

3. It is necessary, therefore, that he should have a 
conception of the relation which the several parts sus- 
tain to each other ; that is, of the effect which every 
part was designed to produce upon every other part. 
When he has arrived at 'this idea, and has combined it 
with the other ideas just mentioned, then, and not 
till then, is his knowledge of the instrument complete. 

It 7S manifest that this last notion — that of the rela 
tions which the parts sustain to each other — is fre- 
quently of more importance than either of tlie others. 
He who has a conception of the cause of motion in a 
steam-engine, and of the manner in which the ends are 
accomplished, has a more valuable notion of the instru- 
ment than he who has ever so accurate a knowledge of 
tliG several parts, without a conception of the relation. 



62 ' THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

Thus, ill the history of astronomy we learn that the 
existence of the several parts of the solar system was 
known for ages, without being productive of any valu- 
able result. The progress of astronomy is to be dated 
from the moment when the relation which the several 
parts hold to each other was discovered by Copernicus. 

Suppose, now, we desire to ascertain what is the 
relation which the several parts of any system are de- 
signed, by its author, to sustain to each other. I know 
of no other way than to find out that series of relations 
in obedience to which the system will accomplish the 
object for which it was constructed. Thus, if we desire 
to ascertain the relation which the parts of a watch are 
designed to sustain to each other, we inquire what is 
that series of relations in obedience to which it will 
accomplish the purpose for which it was constructed ; 
that is, to keep time. For instance, we should conduct 
the inquiry by trying each several part, and ascertain- 
ing by experiment whether, on the supposition that it 
was the cause of motion^ the result, namely, the keeping 
of time, could be effected. After we had tried them 
all, and had found that nnder no other relation of the 
parts to each other than that which assumes the main- 
spring to be the source of motion, and the balance- 
wheel to be the regulator of the motion, the result 
could be produced ; we should conclude with certainty 
that this was the relation of the parts to each other, 
intended to be established by the maker of the watch. 

And, again, if an instrument were designed for sev- 
eral purposes, and if it was found that not only a single 
purpose could not be accomplished, but that no one of 
them could be accomplished under any other system of 
relations than that which had been at first discovered, 
we should arrive at the highest proof of which the case 
was susceptible, that such was the relation intended to 
be established between the parts by the inventor of the 
machine. 

Now, man is a system composed of parts in the man- 
ner above stated. He has various powers, and facul- 
ties, and impulses ; and he is manifestly designed to 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 63 

produce some result. As to the ultimate design for ? 
which man was created, there may be a difference of I 
opinion. Li one view, however, I presume there will .\ 
be no difference. It will be allowed by all that he was 
designed for the production of his own happiness. Look 
at his senses, his intellect, his affections, and at the 
external objects with which these are brought into re- 
lation; and at the effects of the legitimate action of j 
these powers upon their appropriate objects ; and no ■ 
one can for a moment doubt that this was one object 
for which man was created. Thus it is as clear that 
the eye was intended to be a source of pleasure as that 
it was intended to be the instrument of vision. It is 
as clear that the ear was intended to be a source of 
pleasure as to be the organ of hearing. And thus of 
the other faculties. 

But when we consider man as an instrument for the 
production of happiness, it is manifest that we must 
take into the account, man as a society as well as man 
as an individual. The larger part of the happiness of 
the individual depends upon society ; so that whatever 
would destroy the happiness of man as a society, would 
destroy the happiness of man as an individual. And 
such is the constitution under which we are placed, that 
no benefit or injury can be, in its nature, individual. 
T^hoever truly promotes his own happiness, promotes 
the happiness of society ; and whoever promotes the 
happiness of society, promotes his own happiness. In 
this view of the subject, it will then be proper to con- " 
sider man as a society, as an instrument for producing 
tlie happiness of man as a society, as well as man as 
an mdividual, as an instrument for producing the hap- 
piness of man as an individual. 

Let us now consider man as an instrument for the 
production of human happiness, in the sense here ex- 
plained. 

If we examine the impulsive and restraining faculties 
of man, we shall find that they may generally be com- 
prehended under three classes : 

1. Passion or appetite. The object of this class of 



61 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

our faculties is to impel us towards certain acts which 
produce immediate pleasure. Thus, the appetite for 
food impels us to seek gratification by eating. The love 
of power impels us to seek the gratification resulting 
from superiority ; and so of all the rest. 

If we consider the nature of these faculties, we shall 
find that they impel us to immediate gratification, with- 
out any respect to the consequences, either to ourselves 
or to others ; and that they know of no limit to indul- 
gence, until, by their own action, they paralyze the 
power of enjoyment. Thus, the love of food would 
impel us to eat, until eating ceased to be a source of 
pleasure. And where, from the nature of the case, no 
such limit exists, our passions are insatiable. Such is 
the case with the love of wealth, and the love of power. 
In these instances, there being in the constitution of 
man no limit to the power of gratification, the appetite 
grows by what it feeds on. 

2. Interest or self-love. This faculty impels us to 
seek our own happiness, considered in reference either 
to a longer or shorter period, but always to one beyond 
the present moment. Thus, if appetite impelled me to 
eat, self-love would prompt me to eat such food, and in 
such quantity, as would produce for me the greatest 
amount of happiness upon the whole. If passion 
prompted me to revenge, self-love would prompt me to 
seek revenge in such a manner as would not involve 
me in greater distress than that which I now suffer ; or 
to control the passion enth^ely, unless I could so gratify 
it as to promote my own happiness for the future, as 
well as for the present. In all cases, however, the 
promptings of self-love have respect solely to the pro- 
duction of our own happiness ; they have nothing to do 
with the happiness of any other being. 

3. Conscience. The office of conscience, considered 
in relation to these other impulsive faculties, is, to re- 
strain our appetites within such limits that the gratifi- 
cation of them will injure neither ourselves nor others ; 
and so to govern our self-love, that we shall act, not 
solely in obedience to the law of our own liappiness, 
but in obedience to that law which restricts the pursuit 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 65 

of happiness Avithiii such limits as shall not interfere 
vvith the happiness of others. It is not here asserted 
that conscience always admonishes us to this effect, or 
that when it admonishes us it is always successful. We 
may, if we please, disobey its monitions ; or, from rea 
sons hereafter to be mentioned, its monitions may have 
ceased. What we would speak of here is the tendency 
and object of this faculty, and the result to which, if 
it were perfectly obeyed, it would manifestly lead. And 
that such is its tendency, I think that no one, who re- 
flects upon the operations of his own mind, can for a 
moment doubt. 

Suppose, now, man to be a system for the promotion 
of happiness, individual and social, and these various 
impelling powers to be parts of it. These powers being 
frequently, in their nature, contradictory, — that is, be- 
ing such that one frequently impels to and another 
repels /ro??i the same action, — the question is. In what 
relation of these powers to each other can the happiness 
of man be most successfully promoted ? 

1. It cannot be asserted that when these impulsions 
are at variance it is a matter of indifference to which 
of them we yield ; that is, that a man is jxist as happy, 
and renders society just as happy, by obeying the one 
as the other. For, as men always obey either the one or the 
other, this would be to assert that all men are equally 
happy, and that every man promoted his own happiness 
just as much by one course of conduct as by another ; 
than which nothing can be more directly at variance 
with the whole experience of all men in all ages. It 
would be to assert that the glutton who is racked with 
pain is as happy as the temperate and, healthy man ; 
and that Nero and Caligula were as great benefactors 
to mankind as Howard or Wilberforce. 

2. If, then, it be not indifferent to our happiness to 
which of them we yield the supremacy, the question 
returns, Under what relation of each to the other can 
the happiness of man be most successfully promoted ? 

1. Can the happiness of man be promoted by subject- 
ing his other impulses to his -appetites and passions ? 



B6 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

By referring to tlie nature of appetite and passion, as 
previously explained, it will be seen that tlie result to 
the individual of such a course would be sickness and 
death. It would be a life of unrestrained gratification 
of every desire, until the power of enjoyment was ex- 
hausted, without the least regard to the future ; and 
of refusal to endure any present pain, no matter how 
great might be the subsequent advantage. Every one 
must see that, under the present constitution, such a 
course of life must produce nothing but individual mis- 
ery. 

The result upon society would be its utter destruc- 
tion. It would render every man a ferocious beast, 
bent upon nothing but present gratification, utterly 
reckless of the consequences which gratification pro- 
duced upon himself, either directly or through the 
instrumentality of others, and reckless of the havoc 
which he made of the happiness of his neighbor. Now, 
it is manifest that the result of subjecting man to such 
a principle would be not only the destruction of socie- 
ty, but also, in a few years, the entire destruction of 
the human race. 

2. Can the happiness of man be best promoted by 
subjecting all his impulses to self-love ? 

It may be observed that our knowledge of the future, 
and of the results of the things around us, is mani- 
festly insufficient to secure our own happiness, even 
by the most sagacious self-love. When we give up 
the present pleasure, or suffer the present pain, we 
must, from necessity, be wholly ignorant whether we 
shall ever reap the advantage we anticipate. The 
system, of which every individual forms a part, was not 
constructed to secure the happiness of any single indi- 
vidual ; and he who devises his plans with sole refer- 
ence to himself, must find them continually thwarted 
by that Omnipotent and Invisible Agency which is 
overruling all things upon principles directly at vari- 
ance with those which he has adopted. Inasmuch, 
then, as we can never certainly secure to ourselves those 
results which self-love anticipates, it seems necessary 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIENCE. 67 

that, in order to derive from our actions the happiness 
which they are capahle of producing, they involve in 
themselves some element, irrespective of future result, 
which shall give us pleasure, let the result be what it 
may. 

The imperfection of self-love as a director of conduct 
is nobly set forth in Cardinal Woolsey's advice to Crom- 
well : 

Mark but my fall, and that which ruined me. 
Cromwell, I charge thee fling away ambition; 
Love thyself last. Cherish the hearts that hate thee. 

Be just, and fear not; 
Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, 
Thy God's, and truth's; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell! 
Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. 

Henry VIIL, Act. iii., Scene 2, 

May he do justice^ 
For truth's sake, and his conscience ; that his bones, 
When he has run his course, and sleeps in blessings, 
May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on them." 

Ibid. 

For care and trouble set your thought, 

Ev'n when your end's attained ; 
And all your plans may come to naught, 

When every nerve is strained. 

Burns — Epistle to a Young FriendU 

But, mousie! thou art not alone 

In proving/oresi^y/ii may be vain .- 
The best laid schemes of mice and men 

Gang oft agley, 
And leave us naught but grief and pain 
For promised joy. 

Burns — On turning up a Mouse's Nest. 

Besides, a man acting from uncontrolled self-lov6 
knows of no other object than his own happiness. He 
would sacrifice the happiness of others to any amount, 
how gi^eat soever, to secure his own, in any amount, 
how small soever. Now, suppose every individual to 
act in obedience to this principle ; it must produce uni- 
versal war, and terminate in the subjection of all to the 
dominion of the strongest, and in sacrificing the happi- 



68 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

ness of all to that of one ; that is, producing the least 
amount of happiness of which tlie system is susceptible. 
And still more, since men who havexicted upon this princi- 
ple have been proverbially unhappy, the result of such a 
course of conduct is to render ourselves miserable by the 
misery of every one else ; that is, its tendency is to the 
entire destruction of happiness. It is manifest, then, 
that the highest happiness of man cannot be promoted 
by subjecting all his impulses to the government of self- 
love. 

Lastly. ' Suppose, now, all the impulses of man to be 
subjected to conscience. 

The tendency of this impulse, so far as this subject is 
concerned, is, to restrain the appetites and passions of 
man within those Ihnits that shall conduce to his hap- 
piness on the whole, and so to control the impulse of 
self-love, that the individual, in the pursuit of his own 
happiness, shall never interfere with the rightful hap- 
piness of his neighbor. Each one, under such a system, 
and governed by such an impulse, would enjoy all the 
happiness which he could create by the use of the pow- 
ers which God had given him. AH men doing thus, 
the whole would enjoy all the happiness of which their 
constitution was susceptible. The happiness of man as 
an individual, and as a society, would thus be, in the 
best conceivable manner, provided for. And thus, 
under the relation which we have suggested, — that is, 
conscience being supreme, and governing both self-love 
and passion ; and self-love, where no higher principle 
intervened, governing passion, — man individual and 
man universal, considered as an instrument for the 
production of happiness, would best accomplish the 
purpose for which he was created. This, then, is the 
relation between his powers, which was designed to be 
established by his Creator. 

It can in the same manner be shown, that if man, 
individual and universal, be considered as an instru- 
ment for the production of power ^ this eiid of his crea- 
tion can be accomplished most successfully by obedience 
to the relation'here suggested ; that is, on the principle 



THE CULTIVATION OF CONSCIENCE. 69 

thai the authority of conscience is supreme.^ This is 
conclusively shown in Butler's Analogy^ Part I. Chap- 
ter 3. And thus, let any reasonable end be suggested 
for which it may be supposed that man has been crea- 
ted, and it will be found that this end can be best at- 
tained by the subjection of every other impulse to tliat 
of conscience ; nay, that it can be attained in no other 
way. And hence the argument seems conclusive, that 
this is the relation intended by his Creator to be estab- 
lished between his faculties. 

If the preceding views be correct, it will follow : 

1. If God has given man an impulse for virtue, it is 
as true that he has designed him for virtue as for any- 
thing else ; as, for instance, for seeing or for hearing. 

2. If this impulse be the most authoritative in his 
nature, it is equally manifest that man is made for vir- 
tue more than for anything else. 

3. And hence he who is vicious not only acts coii- 
trary to his nature., but contrary to the highest impulse 
of his nature ; that is, he acts as much in opposition to 
his nature as it is possible for us to conceive. 



SECTION IV. 



THE CULTIVATION OF CONSCIENCE. 

Conscience follows the general law by which the im- 
provement of all our other faculties is regulated. It is 
strengthened by use; it is impaired by disuse. 

Here it is necessary to remark, that, by use, we mean 
the use of the faculty itself and not of some other faculty » 

1 Vis consili expers, mole ruit sua. 
Vim temperatam, di quoque provehunt 
In majus; idem odere vires 
Omne nefas aiiimo moventes. 

IloBACE, Lib. 8, Car. 4 



70 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

This is so plain a case, that it seems wonderful that there 
should have been any mistake concerning it. Every 
one knows that the arms are not strengthened by using 
the legs, nor the eyes by using the ears, nor the taste 
by using the understanding. So the conscience can be 
strengthened, not by using the memory, or the taste, or 
the understanding; but by using the conscience, and 
by using it precisely according to the laws, and under 
the conditions designed by our Creator. The conscience 
is not improved by the reading of moral essays, nor by 
committing to memory moral precepts, nor by imagin- 
ing moral vicissitudes ; but by hearkening to its moni- 
tions, and obeying its impulses. 

If we reflect upon the nature of the monition of con- 
science, we shall find that its office is of a threefold 
character. 

1. It enables us to discover the moral quality of 
actions. 

2. It impels us to do right, and to avoid doing wrong. 

3. It is a source of pleasure when we have done right, 
and of pain when we have done wrong. 

Let us illustrate the manner in which it may be im- 
proved and injured in each of these respects. 

I. Of the improvement of the discriminating' power 
of. conscience. 

1. The discriminating power of conscience is improved 
by reflecting upon the moral character of our actions, 
both before and after we have performed them. If, be- 
fore we resolve upon a course of conduct, or before we 
suffer ourselves to be committed to it, we deliberately 
ask, Is this right? am I now actuated by appetite, by 
self-love, or by conscience ? we shall seldom mistake 
the path of duty. After an action has been performed, 
if we deliberately and impassionately examine it, we 
may without difficulty determine whether it was right 
or wrong. Now, with every such effort as this, the dis- 
criminating power of conscience is strengthened. We 
discern moral differences more distinctly ; and we dis- 
tinguish between actions that before seemed blended 
and similar. 



THE CULTIVATION OF CONSCIENCE. 71 

2. The discriminating power of conscience is improved 
by meditating upon characters of preeminent excellence, 
and specially npon the character of God our Creator, 
and Christ our Redeemer, the Fountain of all moral 
excellence. As we cultivate taste, or our susceptibility to 
beauty, by meditating upon the most finished specimens 
of art or tlie most lovely scenery in nature, so con- 
science, or our moral susceptibility, is improved by med- 
itating upon anything eminent for moral goodness. It 
is hence that example produces so powerful a moral 
effect ; and hence that one single act of heroic virtue, 
as that of Howard, or of illustrious self-denial, gives a 
new impulse to the moral character of an age. Men 
cannot reflect upon such actions without the production 
of a change in their moral susceptibility. Hence the 
effect of the Scripture representations of the character 
of God, and of the moral glory of the heavenly state. 
The Apostle Paul refers to tliis principle when he says, 
" We all, with open face, beholding as in a glass the 
glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image, from 
glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord." 

On the contrary, the discriminating power of con- 
science may be injured, 

1. By neglecting to reflect upon the moral character 
of our actions, both before and after we have performed 
them. As taste is rendered obtuse by neglect, so that 
we fail to distinguish between elegance and vulgarity, 
and between beauty and deformity ; so, if we yield to 
the impulses of passion, and turn a deaf ear to the 
monitions of conscience, tlie dividing-line between right 
and wrong seems gradually to become obliterated. We 
pass from the confines of the one into those of the other 
with less and less sensation, and at last neglect the dis- 
tinction altogether. 

Horace remarks this fact : 

Fas atque nefas, exiguo fine, libidinum 
Discernunt avidi. 

This is one of the most common causes of the griev- 
ous moral imperfection which we everywhere behold. 



72 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

Men act without moral reflection. Tliey will ask, re- 
specting an action, every question before that most 
important one. Is it right ? and in the great majority 
of cases act without putting to themselves this question 
at all. " The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his 
master's crib ; but Israel doth not know, my people do 
not consider.''^ If any man doubt whether this be true, 
let him ask himself, How large is the portion of the ac- 
tions which I perform upon which I deliberately decide 
whether they be right or wrong ? And on how large a 
portion of my actions do I form such a decision, after 
they have been performed ? For the want of this re- 
flection, the most pernicious habits are daily formed or 
strengthened ; and when to the power of habit is added 
the seductive influence of passion, it is not wonderful 
that the virtue of man should be the victim. 

2. The discriminating power of conscience is impaired 
by frequent meditation upon vicious character and ac- 
tion. By frequently contemplating vice, our passions 
become excited, and our moral disgust diminishes. 

Thus, also, by becoming familiar with wicked men, 
we learn to associate whatever they may possess of intel- 
lectual or social interest with their moral character; 
and hence our abhorrence of vice is lessened. Thus, 
men who are accustomed to view habitually any vicious 
custom, cease to have their moral feelings excited by 
beholding it. All this is manifest from the facts made 
known in the progress of every moral reformation. Of 
so delicate a texture has God made our moral nature, 
and so easily is it either improved or impaired. Pope 
says, truly : 

Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, 
As, to be dreaded, needs b'lt to be seen : 
But seen too oft, familiar with her face. 
We first endure, then pity, then embrace. 

It is almost unnecessary to remark that this fact will 
enable us to estimate the value of much of our reading, 
and of much of our society. Whatever fills the memory 
with scenes of vice, or stimulates the imagination to 



THE CULTIVATION OF CONSCIENCE. 73 

conceptions of impurity, vulgarity, profanity, or tliougiit- 
Icssness, must, by the whole of this effect, render us 
vicious. As a man of literary sensibility will avoid a 
badly-written book, for fear of injuring his taste, by how 
much more should we dread communion with any- 
thing wrong, lest it should contaminate our imagination, 
and thus injure our moral sense ! 

II. The impulsive power of conscience is improved by 
use, and weakened by disuse. 

To illustrate this law, we need only refer to the ele- 
ments of man's active nature. We are endowed with 
appetites, passions, and self-love, in all their various 
forms ; and any one of them, or all of them, may at 
times be found impelling us towards actions in opposi- 
tion to the impulsion of conscience ; and, of course, ono 
or the other impulse must be resisted. Now, as the law 
of our faculties is universal, that they are strengthened 
by use and weakened by disuse, it is manifest that, 
when we obey the impulse of conscience, and resist the 
impulse of passion, the power of conscience is strength- 
ened ; and, on the contrary, when we obey the impulse 
of passion, and resist that of conscience, the power of 
passion is strengthened. And, yet more, as either of 
these is strengthened, its antagonist impulse is weak- 
ened. Thus, every time a man does right, he gains a 
victory over his lower propensities, acquires self-control, 
and becomes more emphatically a freeman. Every time 
a man does wrong, that is, yields to his lower propen- 
sities, he loses self-control, he gives to his passions power 
over him, he weakens the practical supremacy of con- 
science, and becomes more perfectly a slave. The de- 
sign of the Christian religion in this respect is to bring 
us under the dominion of conscience, enlightened by 
revelation, and to deliver us from the slavery of evil 
propensity. Thus, our Lord declares, " If the Son shall 
make you free, ye shall be free indeed." And, on the 
contrary, " Whosoever committeth sin, is the servant 
[the slave] of sin." 

Again. It is to be remarked, that there exists a 
reciprocal connection between the use of the dis- 
7 



74 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

criminating and of the impulsive power of conscience. 
The more a man reflects upon moral distinctions, the 
greater will be the practical influence which he will 
find them to exert over him. And it is still more 
decidedly true, that the more implicitly we obey the im- 
pulsions of conscience, the more acute will be its power 
of discrimination, and the more prompt and definite its 
decisions. This connection between theoretical knowl- 
edge and practical application is frequently illustrated 
in the other faculties. He who delineates objects of 
loveliness, finds the discriminating power of taste to im- 
prove. And thus also this effect, in morals, is frequently 
alluded to in the Scriptures. 

Our Saviour declares, " If any man will do his will, 
he shall know of the doctrine." 

Thus, also, " Unto him that hath shall be given, and 
he shall have abundance ; but from him that hath not 
[that is, does not improve what he has], shall be taken 
away even that which he hath." 

Thus, also, the Apostle Paul : " I beseech you there- 
fore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present 
your bodies a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable unto 
God, which is your rational service ; and be ye not con- 
formed to this world, but be ye transformed unto the 
renewing of your mind, that [so that, to the end that'] 
ye may know what is that good, and acceptable, and 
perfect will of the Lord." 

III. The sensibility of conscience as a source of pleas- 
ure or of pain, is strengthened by use, and weakened by 
disuse. 

The more frequently a man does right, the stronger 
is his impulse to do right, and the greater is the pleas- 
ure that results from the doing of it. A liberal man 
derives a pleasure from the practice of charity, of which 
the covetous man can form no conception. A bene- 
ficent man is made happy by acts of self-denial and 
philanthropy, while a selfish man performs an act of 
goodness by painful and strenuous effort, and merely to 
escape the reproaches of conscience. By the habitual 
^^ftrcise of the benevolent affections, a man becomes 



TIIE CULTIVATION OF CONSCIENCE. 75 

aaore and more capacious of virtue, capable of liiglier 
and more disinterested and more self-denying acts of 
mercy, until he becomes an enthusiast in goodness, loving 
to do good better than anything else. And, in the same 
manner, the more our affections to God are exercised, 
the more constant and profound is the happiness which 
they create, and the more absolutely is every other wish 
absorbed by the single desire to do the will of God. Il- 
lustrations of these remarks may be found in the lives 
of the Apostle Paul, John Howard, and other philan- 
thropists. Thus, it is said of our Saviour, " He went 
about doing good." And he says of himself, " My meat 
is to do the will of Him that sent me^ and to finish his 
work." 

And it deserves to be remarked, that, in our present 
otate, opportunities for moral improvement and moral 
pleasure are incessantly occurring. Under the present 
conditions of our being, there are everywhere, and at 
all times, sick to be relieved, mourners to be comforted, 
ignorant to be taught, vicious to be reclaimed, and men 
by nature enemies to God to be won back to reconcili- 
ation to him. The season for moral labor depends not, 
like that for physical labor, upon vicissitudes beyond 
our control : it depends solely upon our own will. This 
I suppose to be the general principle involved in our 
Saviour's remark to his apostles : " Say ye not. There 
are four months^ and then cometh the harvest ? Lift up 
your eyes, and look upon the fields, for they are white 
already to the harvest.''^ That is, the fields are always 
waiting for the laborer in the moral harvest. 

And, on the contrary, the man who habitually vio- 
lates his conscience, not only is more feebly impelled 
K) do right, but he becomes less sensible to the pain of 
ioing wrong. A child feels poignant remorse after the 
drst act of pilfering. Let the habit of dishonesty be 
ibrmed, and he will become so hackneyed in sin, that 
he will perpetrate robbery with no other feeling than the 
mere fear of detection. The first oath almost palsies 
the tongue of the stripling. It requires but a few 
nioiilh?, however, to transform him into the bold aud 



76 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

tliouglitless blasphemer. The murderer, after the death 
of his first victim, is agitated with all the horrors of 
guilt. He may, however, pursue his trade of blood 
until he have no more feeling for man than the butclier 
for the animal which he slaughters. Burk, who was in 
the habit of murdering men for the purpose of selling 
their bodies to the surgeons for dissection, confessed 
this of himself. Nor is this true of individuals alone. 
Whole communities may become so accustomed to 
deeds of violence, as not merely to lose all the milder 
sympathies of their nature, but also to take pleasure in 
exhibitions of the most revolting ferocity. Such was 
the case in Eome at the period of the gladiatorial con- 
tests ; and such was the fact in Paris at the time of the 
French Revolution. 

This also serves to illustrate a frequently repeated 
aphorism, Qucm Deus vult perdere^prius dementat. As 
a man becomes more wicked, he becomes bolder in 
crime. Unchecked by conscience, he ventures upon 
more and more atrocious villany, and he does it with 
less and less precaution. As in the earliest stages of 
guilt he is betrayed by timidity, in the latter stages of 
it he is exposed by recklessness. He is thus discov- 
ered by the very effect which his conduct is produc- 
ing upon his own mind. Thus oppressors and despots 
seem to rush upon their own ruin, as though bereft of 
reason. Such limits has our Creator, by the conditions 
of our being, set to the range of human atrocity. 

Thus we see that by every step in our progress in 
virtue, the succeeding step becomes less difficult. Li 
proportion as we deny our passions, they become less 
imperative. The oftener we conquer them, the less is 
the moral effort necessary to secure the victory, and the 
less frequently and the less powerfully do they assail 
us. By every act of successful resistance, we diminish 
the tremendous power of habit over us, and thus be- 
come more perfectly under the government of our own 
will. Thus, with every act of obedience to conscience, 
our character is fixed upon a more immovable founda- 
tion. 



THE CULTIVATION OF CONSCIENCE. 77 

Aiid, on the contrary, by every act of vicious indul- 
gence, we give our passions more uncontrolled power 
over us, and diminish the power of reason and of con- 
science. Thus, by every act of sin, we not only incur 
new guilt, but wc strengthen the bias toiuards sin during 
the li'hole of our subsequent being. Hence every vicious 
act renders our return to virtue more difficult and 
more hopeless. The tendency of such a course is to 
give to habit the power which ought to be exerted by 
our will. And hence it is not improbable that the con 
ditions of our being may be such as to allow of our 
arriving at such a state, that reformation may be actu- 
ally impossible. That the holy Scriptures allude to 
such a condition during the present life, is evident. 
Such, also, is probably the necessary condition of the 
wicked in another world. 

In stating the change thus produced upon oiu' moral 
nature, it deserves to be remarked, that this loss of sen- 
sibility is probably only temporary. There is reason to 
believe that no impressions made upon the human soul 
during its present probationary state are ever perma- 
nently erased. Causes operating merely upon man's 
physical nature frequently revive whole trains of 
thought, and even the knowledge of languages which 
had been totally forgotten during the greater portion 
of a long life. This seems to show that the liability to 
lose impressions once made upon us depends upon some 
condition arising from our material nature only,* and 
that this liability will cease as soon as our present mode 
of existence torminates. That is to say, if the power 
of retaining knowledge is always the same, but if our 
consciousness of knowledge is veiled by our material 
organs, when these have been laid aside, our entire con- 
sciousness will return. Now, indications of the same 
nature are to be found in abundance with respect to 
conscience. Wicked men, after having spent a life in 
prosperous guilt, and without being in trouble like other 
men, arc frequently, without any assignable cause, tor- 
mented with all the agonies of remorse ; so that the 
mere consciousness of guilt has become absolutely in- 



78 THEORETICAL EIHIGS. 

tolerable, and tlicy have perislied by derangement or by 
suicide. The liorrors of a licentious sinner's death-bed 
present a striking illustration of the same solemn fact. 
^ A scene of this sort has been no less vividly than accu- 
I rately described by Dr. Young, in the death of Alta- 
^ mont. All these things should be marked by us as 
solemn warnings. They show us of what the constitu- 
tion under which we exist is capable ; and it is in forms 
like these that the " coming events " of eternity " cast 
their shadows before." 

In such indexes, 

There is seen 
The baby figures of the giant mass 
Of things to come ar large. 

Shaksfearb. 



SECTION V. 

RULES FOR MORAL CONDUCT, DERIVED FROM THE PRECEDING 
REMARKS. 

Several plain rules of conduct are suggested by tho 
above remarks, which may more properly be introduced 
here than in any other place. 

I. Before you resolve upon an action^ or a course of 
action^ 

1. Cultivate the habit of deciding upon its moral 
character. Let the first question always be. Is this 
action right ? For this purpose God gave you this fac- 
ulty. If you do not use it, you are false to yourself 
and inexcusable before God. We despise a man who 
never uses his reason, and scorn him as a fool. Is he 
not much more to be despised who neglects to use a fac- 
ulty of so much higher autliority than reason? And 
let the question. Is this right ? be asked first, before 
imagination has set before us the seductions of pleasure, 
or any step has been taken whicli should pledge our 



RULES FOR MORAL CONDUCT. 79 

consistency of character. If we ask this question y?r5/, 
it can generally be decided with ease. If we wait until 
the mind is agitated and harassed by contending emo- 
tions, it will not be easy to decide correctly. 

2. Remember that your conscience has become im- 
perfect from your frequent abuse of it. Hence, in 
many cases, its discrimination will be indistinct. In- 
stead of deciding^ it will frequently only doubt. That 
doubt should be, generally, as imperative as a decision. 
When you, therefore, doubt respecting the virtue of an 
action, do not perform it unless you as much doubt 
whether you are at liberty to refram from it. Tims 
says President Edwards, in one of his resolutions : 
" Resolved, never to do anything of which I so much 
question the lawfulness, as that I intend at the same 
time to consider and examine afterwards whether it be 
lawful or not ; except I as much question the lawfulness 
of the omission." 

3. Cultivate on all occasions, in private or in public, 
in small or great, in action or in thought, the habit of 
obeying the monitions of conscience ; all other things to 
the contrary notwithstanding. 

Its slightest touches, instant pause; 

Debar a' side pretences; 
And resolutely keep its laws, 

Uncaring consequences. 

BUKNS. 

The supremacy of conscience imposes upon you tlie 
obligation to act thus. You cannot remember, in the 
course of your whole life, an instance in which you 
regret having obeyed it ; and you cannot remember a 
single instance in which you do not regret having diso- 
beyed it. There can nothing happen to you so bad as 
to have done wrong : there can nothing be gained so 
valuable as to have done right. And remember that it 
is only by cultivating the practical supremacy of con- 
science over every other impulse that you can attain to 
that bold, simple, manly, elevated character which is 
essential to true greatness. 



fiO tiieoi:etical ETincs. 

This has been frequently taught us, even by the hea- 
then poets : 

Virtus, repulvSjs nescia sordidae, 
Intaminatis fulget honoribus : 
Nee sumit aut ponit secures 
Arbitrio popularis aurae: 

Vii-tus, recludens immeritis mori 
Coelum, negata tentat iter via; 
Coetusque vulgares et udam 
Spernit humura fugiente penna. 

Horace, Lib. 3, Car. 2. 

A greater than a heathen has said, " If tliine eye be 
single, thy whole body shall be full of light ; " and has 
enforced the precept by the momentous question, What 
shall it profit a man, though he should gain the whole 
world and lose his own soul ? or what shall a man give 
in exchange for his soul ? " 

II. After an action has been performed, 
1. Cultivate the habit of reflecting upon your actions, 
and upon the intention with which they have been per- 
formed, and of thus deciding upon their moral charac- 
ter. This is called self-examination. It is one of the 
most important duties in the life of a moral, and spe- 
cially of a probationary being. 

'Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours, 
And ask them what report they bore to heaven, 
And how they might have borne more welcome news. 

a. Perform this duty deliberately/. It is not the busi- 
ness of hurry or of negligence. Devote time exclusively 
to it. Go alone. Retire within yourself, and weigh 
your actions coolly and carefully, forgetting all other 
things in the conviction that you are a moral and an 
accountable being. 

b. Do it impartially. Remember that you are liable 
to be misled by the seductions of passion and the 
allurements of self-interest. Put yourself in the place 
of those around you, and put others in your own place, 
and remark how you would then consider your actions. 



RULES FOR MORAL CONDUCT. 81 

Pay great attention to the opinions of your enemies : 
there is generally foundation, or at least the appearance 
of it, in what they say of you. But, above all, tal<:e the 
true and perfect standard of moral character eichibited 
in the precepts of the gospel, and exemplifiei in the 
life of Jesus Christ ; and thus examine your conduct 
by the light that emanates from the holiness of heaven. 

2. Suppose you have examined yourself, aud arrived 
at a decision respecting the moral character of your 
actions. 

i. If you are conscious of having dmte rights be 
thankful to that God who has mercifully enabled you to 
do so. Observe the peace and serenity which fills your 
bosom, and remark how greatly it overbalances the self- 
denials which it has cost. Be humbly thankful that you 
have made some progress in virtue. 

2. If your actions have been of a mixed character, — 
that is, if they have proceeded from motives partly good 
and partly bad, — labor to obtain a clear view of each, 
and of the circumstances which led you to confound 
them. Avoid the sources of this confusion ; and when 
you perform the; same actions again, be specially on 
your guard against the influence of any motive of which 
you now disapprove. 

3. If conscience convicts you of having acted wrongly, 

1. Reflect upon the wrong; survey the obligations 
which you have violated, until you are sensible of your 
guilt. 

2. Be willing to suffer the pains of conscience. They 
are the rebukes of a friend, and are designed to v/ith- 
hold you from the commission of wrong in future. 
Neither turn a neglectful ear to its monitions, nor 
drown its voice amid the bustle of business or the 
gayety of pleasure. 

3. Do not let the subject pass away from your thoughts 
until you have come to a settled resolution — a resolu- 
tion founded on moral disapprobation of the action — 
never to do so any more. 

4. If restitution be in your power, make it without 
hesitation, and do it immediately. The least tliat a 



82 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

man ought to be satisfied with, who has done wrong, is 
to repair the wrong as soon as it is possible. 

5. As every act of wrong is a sin against God, seek 
in humble penitence his pardon through the merits and 
intercession of his Son, Jesus Christ. 

6. Kemark the actions, or the courses of thinking, 
which were the occasions of leading you to do wrong. 
Be specially careful to avoid them in future. To this 
effect says President Edwards : " Eesolved, that when I 
do any conspicuously evil action, to trace it back till I 
come to the original cause ; and then both carefully 
endeavor to do so no more, and to fight and pray with 
all my might against the original of it." 

7. Do all this in Immble dependence upon that mer- 
ciful and everywhere present Being who is always ready 
to grant us all the assistance necessary to keep his com- 
mandments, and who will never leave us nor forsake 
us, if we put our trust in him. 

It seems, then, from what has been remarked, that 
we are all endowed with conscience, or a faculty for 
discerning a moral quality in human actions, impelling 
us towards right, and dissuading us from wrong ; and 
that the dictates of this faculty are felt and known to be 
of supreme authority. 

The possession of this faculty renders us accounta- 
ble creatures. Without it we should not be specially dis- 
tinguished from the brutes. With it, we are brought 
into moral relations with God, and all the moral intel- 
ligences in the universe. 

It is an ever-present faculty. It always admonishes 
QS, if we will listen to its voice, and it frequently does 
60 even when we wish to silence its warnings. Hence 
WQ may always know our duty, if we will but inquire 
for it. We can, therefore, never have any excuse for 
doing wrong, since no man need do wrong unless he 
chooses ; and no man will do it ignorantly, unless from 
criminal neglect of the faculty which God has given 
liim. 

How solemn is the thought that we are endowed 
with such a faculty, and that we can never be disunited 



RULES FOR MORAL COXDUCT. 83 

from it ! It goes with us tlirougli all the scenes of life, 
in company and alone, admonishing, warning, reproving, 
and recording ; and, as a source of happiness or of 
misery, it must ahide with us forever. Well doth it 
become man, then, to reverence himself. 

And thus we see that from his moral constitution, 
were there no other means of knowledge of duty, man 
is an accountable creature. Man is under obligation to 
obey the will of God, in luhat manner soever signified. 
That it is signified in this manner, I think there cannot 
be a question ; and for this knowledge he is justly held 
responsible. Thus the Apostle Paul declares, that " the 
Gentiles, who have not the law, are a law unto them- 
selves, which show the work of the law written on their 
hearts, their consciences being continually excusing or 
accusing one another." How much greater must be 
the responsibility of those to whom God has given the 
additional light of natural and revealed religioD ! 



CHAPTEE III. 

THE NATURE OF VIRTUE. 

SECTION I. 

OF VIRTUE IN GENERAL. 

It has been already remarked, that we find ourselves 
60 constituted as to stand in various relations to all the 
beings around us, especially to our fellow-men and to 
God. There may be, and there probably are, other 
beings to whom, by our creation, we are related ; but we 
as yet have no information on the subject ; and we must 
wait until we enter upon another state, before the fact 
and the manner of the fact be revealed. 

In consequence of these relations, and either by the 
appointment of God, or from the necessity of the case, 
— if, indeed, these terms mean anything different from 
each other, ^ — there arise moral obligations to exercise 
certain affections towards other beings, and to act 
towards them in a manner corresponding to those aflec- 
tions. Thus, we are taught in the Scriptures that the 
relation in which we stand to Deity involves the obli- 
gation to universal and unlimited obedience and love, 
and that the relation in which we stand to each other 
involves the obligation to love, limited and restricted, 
and, of course, to a mode of conduct in all respects 
correspondent to these affections. 

An action is right when it corresponds to these obli- 
gations, or, which is the same thing, is the carrying into 
effect of these affections. It is wrong when it is in 



OF VIRTUE IN GENEJ^Ai. 85 

violation of tliose obligations, or is tliG carrying into 
effect any other affections. 

By means of our intellect we become aware of the 
relations in which we stand to the beings with whom wo 
are connected. Thus, by the exertion of our intellect- 
ual faculties we become acquainted with the existence 
and attributes of God, his power, his wisdom, his good- 
ness ; and it is by these same faculties that we under- 
stand and verify those declarations of the Scriptures 
which give us additional knowledge of his attributes, 
and by which we arrive at a knowledge of the condi- 
tions of our being as creatures, and also of the various 
relations in which we stand to each other. 

Conscience, as has been remarked, is that faculty by 
which we become conscious of the obligations arising 
from these relations ; by which we perceive the quality 
of right in those actions which correspond to these obli- 
gations, and of wrong in those actions which violate 
them, and by which we are impelled towards the one 
and repelled from the other. It is manifestly the design 
of this faculty to suggest to us this feeling of obli- 
gation as soon as the relations on which it is founded 
are understood ; and thus to excite in us the corre- 
sponding aff'ections. • 

Now, in a perfectly constituted moral and intellect- 
ual being, it is evident thp,t there would be a perfect 
adjustment between these external qualities and the 
internal faculties. K perfect eye is an eye that, under 
the proper conditions, would discern every variety and 
shade of color in every object which it was adapted to 
perceive. The same remark would apply to our hefir- 
ing, or to any other sense. So, a perfectly constituted 
intellect would, under the proper conditions, discern the 
relations in which the being stood to other beings ; and 
a perfectly constituted conscience would at the same 
time become conscious of all the obligations which 
arose from such relations, and woidd impel us to the 
corresponding courses of coiidact. That is, there would 
exist a perfect adaptation between the external quali- 
ties which were addressed to these faculties, and the 
8 



86 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

faculties themselves, to wliicli these qualities w^irj* 
addressed. 

Hence, in a being thus perfectly constituted, it is 
manifest that virtue^ the doing of rights or obedience to 
conscience^ would mean the same thing. 

When, however, we speak of the perfection of a moral 
organization, we speak of the perfectness of adjustment 
between the faculty of conscience and the relations and 
obligations under which the particular being is created. 
Hence this very perfection admits of various gradations 
and modifications. For example : 

1. The relations of the same being change, during 
the progress of its existence, from infancy, through 
childhood and manhood, until old age. This change 
of relations involves a change of obligations ; and the 
perfection of its moral organization would consist in 
the perfect adjustment of its moral faculty to its moral 
relations^ throughout the whole course of its history. 
Now, the tendency of this change is, manifestly, from 
less to greater ; that is, from less imperative to more 
imperative, and f -om less numerous to more numerous 
obligations. That is, the tendency of the present sys- 
tem is to render beings more and more capacious of 
virtue and of vice, as far as we are permitted to have 
any knowledge of them. 

2. As it is manifestly impossible for us to conceive 
«'ither how numerous or how important may be our 
relations to other creatures in another state, or how 
AJiuch more intimate may be the relations in which we 
shall stand to our Creator ; and as there can be no 
limit conceived to our power of coniprehending these 
relations, nor to our power of becoming conscious of 
the obligations which they involve ; so it is manifest 
that no limit can be conceived to the progress of man's 
capacity for virtue. It evidently contains within itself 
elements adapted to infinite improvement, in any state 
in which we may .exist. 

3. And the same may be said of vice. As our obliga- 
tions must, from what we already know, continue to 
increase, and our power for recognizing them must also 



OF VIRTUE IN BIPERFECT BEINGS. 87 

continue to increase, if we perpetually violate them we be- 
come more and more capable of wrong ; and thus, also, 
become more and more intensely vicious. And thus the 
very elements of a moral constitution seem to involve 
the necessity of illimitable progress, either in virtue or 
in vice, so long as we exist. 

4. And as, on the one hand, we can have no concep- 
tion of the amount of attainment, both in virtue and 
vice, of which man is capable, so, on the other hand, we 
can have no conception of the delicacy of that moral 
tinge by which his character is first designated. We 
detect moral character at a very early age ; but this by 
no means proves that it did not exist long before we 
detected it. Hence, as it may thus have existed before 
we were able to detect it, it is manifest that we have no 
elements by which to determine the time of its com- 
mencement. That is to say, in general, we are capable 
of observing moral qualities within certain limits, as 
from childhood to old age ; but this is no manner of 
indication that these qualities may not exist in the 
being, both before and afterwards, in degrees greatly 
below and vastly above anything which we are capable 
of observing. 



SECTION II. 

OF VIRTUE IN IMPEEFECT BEINGS. 

Part I. Let us now consider this subject in relation 
to a being whose moral constitution has become dis- 
ordered. 

Now, this disorder might be of two kinds : 
1. He might not perceive all the relations in which 
he stood, and which give rise to moral obligations, and, 
of course, would be unconscious of the corresponding 
obligations. 



88 THEORETICAL ETmCS. 

2. He might perceive the relation, but his conscience 
might be so disordered as not to feel the obligation 
which corresponded to it. 

What shall we say concerning the actions of such a 
being ? 

1. The relations under which he is constituted are 
the same, and the obligations arising out of these rela 
tions are the same, as though his moral constitution 
had not become disordered. 

2. His actions would all be comprehended under two 
classes : 

1. Those which came, if I may so express it, within 
the limit of his conscience ; that is, those in which his 
conscience did correctly intimate to him his obligation ; 
and, 

2. Those in which it did not so intimate it. 

Now, of the first class of actions, it is manifest that, 
where conscience did correctly intimate to him his obli- 
gations, the doing of right and obedience to conscience 
would, as in the last section, be equivalent terms. 

But what shall we say of those without this limit ; 
that is, of those which he, from the conditions of his 
being, is under obligation to perform ; but of which, 
from the derangement of his moral nature, he does not 
perceive the obligation ? 

1. Suppose him to perform these very actions, there 
could be in them no virtue ; for, the man perceiving in 
them no moral quality, and having towards them no 
moral impulsion, moral obligation could be no motive 
for performing them. He might act from passion, or 
from self-love ; but, under such circumstances, as there 
is no moral motive, there could be no praiseworthiness. 
Thus, for a judge to do justice to a poor widow, is man- 
ifestly right ; but a man may do this without any moral 
desert ; for, hear what the unjust judge saith : " Though 
I fear not God^ nor regard man, yet, because this ividow 
troiibletJi me, I will avenge her, lest by her continual 
coming she weary me." 

It does not, however, follow that the performing of 
an action in this manner is innocent. The relation in 



OF VIRTUE IN BIPEEFECT BEINGS. 89 



which a being stands to otiier beings involves the obliga- 
tion to certain feelings, as well as the acts correspond- 
ent to those feelings. If the act be performed, and the 
feeling be wanting, the obligation is not fulfilled, and 
the man may be guilty. How far he is guilty will be 
seen below. 

2. But, secondly, suppose him not to perform those 
actions which are, as we have said, without the limit of 
his cun science. In how far is the omission of these ac- 
tions, or the doing of the contrary, innocent ? That is 
to say, is the impulse of conscience in a morally imper- 
fect being the limit of moral obligation ? 

This will, I suppose, depend upon the following 
considerations : 

1. His knoivledge of the relations in which he stands. 
If he know not the relations in which he stands to 

others, and have not the means of knowing them, he is 
guiltless, li he knoiv them, or have the means of knoiv- 
ing them, and have not improved these means, he is 
guilty. This is, I think, the principle asserted by the 
Apostle Paul in his Epistle to the Romans. He asserts 
that the heathen are guilty in sinning against God, be- 
cause his attributes may be known by the light of nature. 
He also asserts that there will be a difference between 
the condemnation of the Jews and that of the heathen, 
on the ground that the Jews were informed of many 
points of moral obligation, which the heathen could not 
have ascertained without a revelation : " Those that sin 
without law shall perish without law ; and those that 
have sinned in the law shall be judged by the law." 

2. His guilt will depend, secondly, on the cause of 
this imperfection of his conscience. 

Were this imperfection of conscience not the result 
of his own act he would be guiltless. But, in just so 
far as it is the result of his own conduct, he is responsi- 
ble. And, inasmuch as imperfection of conscience, or 
diminution of moral capacity, can result from nothing 
but voluntary transgression, I suppose that he must be 
answerable for the whole amount of that imperfection. 
We have already seen that conscience may be improved 
8* 



90 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

by use and injured by disuse, or by abuse. Now, as a 
man is entitled to all the benefits which accrue from the 
faithful improvement of his conscience, so he is respon- 
sible for all the injury that results from the abuse of it. 
That this is the fact, is, I think, evident from obvious 
considerations : 

1. It is well known that the repetition of wickedness 
produces great stupidity of conscience, or, as it is fre- 
quently termed, hardness of heart. But no one ever 
considers this stupidity as in any manner an excuse. 
It is, on the contrary, always held to be an aggravation 
of crime. Thus, we term a man, who has become so 
accustomed to crime that he will commit murder with- 
out feeling and without regret, a remorseless murderer, 
a cold-blooded assassin ; and every one knows that by 
these epithets we mean to designate a special and addi- 
tional element of guiltiness. This I take to be the 
universal sentiment of man. 

2. The assertion of the contrary would lead to results 
manifestly erroneous. 

Suppose two men of precisely the same moral at- 
tainments, to-day, to commence at the same time two 
courses of conduct diametrically opposed to each other. 
The first, by the scrupulous doing of right, cultivates 
to the utmost his moral nature, and increases with 
every day his capacities for virtue. The sphere of his 
benevolent affections enlarges, and the activity of his 
moral feelings becomes more and more intense, until 
he is filled with the most ardent desire to promote the 
welfare of every fellow-creature, and to do the will of 
God with his whole heart. The other, by a continued 
course of crime, gradually destroys the susceptibility of 
his conscience, and lessens his capacity for virtue, until 
his soul is filled with hatred to God, and no other feel- 
ing of obligation remains, except that of fidelity to his 
copartners in guilt. 

Now, at the expiration of this period, if both of these 
men should act according to what each felt to be the 
dictate of conscience, they would act very differently. 
But if a man can be under obligation to do, and to 



OF VIRTUE m BIPERFECT BEINGS. 91 

leave undone, notliing but what his conscience at a 
particular moment indicates, I do not see but that these 
men would be, in the actions of that moment, equally 
innocent. The only difference between them, so far as 
the actions of a particular moment were concerned, 
would be the difference between a virtuous man and a 
virtuous child. 

From these facts we are easily led to the distinction 
between right and wrongs and innocence and guilt. 
Right and lurong depend upon the relations under 
which beings are created ; and hence the obligations 
resulting from these relations are, in their nature, fixed 
and unchangeable. Guilt and innocence depend upon 
the knowledge of these relations, and of the obligations 
arising from them. As these are manifestly susceptible 
of variation, while right and wrong are invarial)le, the 
two notions may manifestly not always correspond to 
each other. 

Thus, for example, an action may be wrong ; but if 
the actor have no means of knowing it to be wrong, he 
is held morally guiltless in the doing of it. Or, again, 
a man may have a consciousness of obligation, and a 
sincere desire to act in conformity to it, and may, from 
ignorance of the way in which that obligation is to be 
discharged, perform an act in its nature wrong ; yet, if 
he have acted according to the best of his possible 
knoivledge, he may not only be held guiltless, but even 
virtuous. And, on the contrary, if a man do what is 
actually right, but without a desire to fuldl the obliga- 
tion of which he is conscious, he is held to be guilty ; 
for he has not manifested a desire to act in obedience 
to the obligations under which he knew himself to be 
created. Illustrations of these remarks may be easily 
drawn from the ordinary affairs of life, or from the 
Scriptm-es. 

Aud hence we also arrive at another prmciple, of 
importance in our moral judgments ; namely, that our 
own consciousness of innocence, or our not being con- 
scious of guilt, is by no means a sufficient proof of our 
innocence. A man may never have reflected on *Uo 



92 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

relations in wliicli he stands to other men, or to God ; 
and hence may be conscious of no feeling of obligation 
toward either, in any or in particular respects. This 
may be the fact ; but his innocence would not be estab- 
lished unless he can also show that he has faithfully 
and impartially used all the powers which God has 
given him to obtain a knowledge of these relations. 
Or, again, he may understand the relation, and have 
no corresponding sensibility. This may be the fact ; 
but his innocence would not be established unless hti 
can also show that he has always faithfully and honestly 
obeyed his conscience, so that his moral insensibility is 
in no manner attributable to his own acts. Until these 
things can be shown, the want of consciousness of guilt 
will be no proof of innocence. To this principle, if I 
mistake not, the Apostle Paul alludes, in 1 Cor. iv. 3, 
4 : " But with me it is a very small thing to be judged 
of you, or of man's judgment ; yea, I judge not my 
own self, for I know nothing of my own self [or, rather, 
I am conscious of nothing wrong in myself; that is, of 
no unfaithfulness in office] ; yet am I not lierehij justi- 
fied: but he that judgeth me is the Lord." And thus 
a man may do great wrong, and be deeply guilty in 
respect to a whole class of obligations, without being in 
any painful degree sensible of it. Such I think to be 
the moral state in which men in general are in respect 
to their obligations to God. Thus saith our Saviour to 
the Jews : " I know you, that ye have not the love of 
God in you;'''' while they were supposing themselves 
to be the special favorites of Heaven. 

Part II. From these remarks we may also learn the 
relation in which beings, created as ive are, stand to 
moral law, 

Man is created with moral and intellectual powers, 
capable of progressive improvement. Hence, if he use 
his faculties as he ought, he will progressively improve ; 
that is, become more and more capable of virtue. He 
is assured of enjoying all the benefits which can result 
from such improvement. If he use these faculties as 



OF VIRTUE m EVIPERFECT BEINGS. 95 

he ought not, and become less and less capable of-virtue, 
he is hence held responsible for all the 'consequences of 
his misimprovement. 

Now, as this misimprovement is his own act, for which 
he is responsible, it manifestly does not affect the rela- 
tions under which he is created, nor the obligations 
resulting from these relations ; that is, he stands in 
respect to the moral requirements under which he is 
created, precisely in the same condition as if he had 
always used his moral powers correctly. That is to say, 
under the present moral constitution, every man is 
justly held responsible, at every period of his existence, 
for that degree of virtue of which he would have been 
capable had he from the first moment of his existence 
improved his moral nature in every respect just as he 
ought to have done. In other words, suppose some 
human being to have always lived thus, (Jesus Christ, 
for instance), every man, supposing him to have the 
same means of knowing his duty, would at every suc- 
cessive period of his existence be held responsible for 
the same degree of virtue as such a perfect being at- 
tained to at the corresponding periods of his existence. 
Such I think evidently to be the nature of the obligation 
which must rest upon such beings throughout the 
whole extent of their duration. 

In order to meet this increasing responsibility in such 
a manner as to fulfil the requirements of moral law, a 
being under such a constitution must at every moment 
of his existence possess a moral faculty, which, by per- 
fect previous cultivation, is adapted to the responsibili- 
ties of that particular moment. But suppose this not 
to have been the case, and that, on the contrary, his 
moral faculty, by once doing wrong, has become im- 
paired, so that it either does not admonish him correctly 
of his obligations, or that he has become indisposed 
. to obey its monitions. This failure must at the next- 
moment terminate in action more at variance with rec- 
titude than before. The adjustment between conscience 
and the passions must become deranged : and thus 
the tendency, at every successive moment, must be to 



94 THEORETICAL ETHICS. ^ 

involve liim in deeper and deeper guilt. And unless 
some other moral force be exerted in the case, such 
must be the tendency forever. 

And suppose some such force to be exerted, and at 
any period of his existence the being begin to obey 
his consciei-ce in every one of its present monitions. It 
is manifest that he would now need some other and 
more perfect guide, in order to inform him perfectly of 
his obligations, and of the mode in which they were to 
be fulfilled. And supposing this to be done : as he is 
at this moment responsible for such a capacity for vir- 
tue as would have been attained by a previously perfect 
rectitude^ and as his capacity is inferior to this, and as 
no reason can be suggested why his progress in virtue 
should, under the»e circumstances, be more rapid than 
that of a perfect being, but the contrary ; it is manifest 
that he must ever fall short of what is justly required 
of him ; nay, that he must be continually falling further 
and further behind it. 

And hence the present constitution tends to show us 
the remediless nature of moral evil under the govern- 
ment of God, unless some other principle than that of 
law be admitted into the case. These conditions of 
being having been violated, unless man be placed 
under some other conditions^ natural religion would 
lead us to believe that he must suffer the penalty, 
whatever it be, of wrong. Penitence could in no man- 
ner alter his situation ; for it is merely a temper justly 
demanded in consequence of his sin. But this could 
not replace him in his original relation to the law which 
had been violated. Such seem to be the teachings of 
the holy Scriptures ; and they seem to me to declare, 
moreover, that this change in the conditions of our 
being has been accomplished by the mediation of a Re- 
deemer, by which change of conditions we may, through 
the obedience of another, be justified (that is, treated 
as though just), although we are by confession guilty. 

And hence, although it were shown that a man was 
at any particular period of his being incapable of that 
degree of virtue which the law of God required, ifc 



OF VIRTUE IN IMPERFECT BEINGS. 95 

would neither follow that he was not under obligation to 
exercise it, nor that he was not responsible for the whole 
amount of that exercise of it ; since, if he have dwarfed 
his own powers, he is responsible for the result. And, 
conversely, if God require this whole amount of virtue, 
it will not prove that man is now capable of exercisiog 
it ; but only that he is either thus capable, or that he 
would have been so if he had used correctly the powers 
which God gave him. 

Part III. A few suggestions respecting the moral 
relations of habit will close this discussion. 

Some of the most important facts respecting habit 
are the following : 

It is found to be the fact that the repetition of any 
physical act at stated periods, and especially after brief 
intervals, renders the performance of the act easier ; it 
is accomplished in less time, witli less effort, with less 
expense of nervous power, and of mental energy. This is 
exemplified every day in the acquisition of the mechan- 
ical arts, and in learning the rudiments of music. And 
whoever will remark, may easily be convinced that a 
great part of our education, physical and intellectual, 
in so far as it is valuable, consists in the formation of 
habits. 

The same remarks apply, to a very considerable ex- 
tent, tojmoral habits. 

The repetition of a virtuous act produces a tendency 
to continued repetition ; the force of opposing motives 
is lessened ; the power of the will over passion is more 
decided ; and the act is accomplished with less moral 
effort. Perhaps we should express the fact truly by 
saying that by the repetition of virtuous acts moral 
power is gained, while for the performance of the same 
acts less moral power is required. 

On the contrary, by the repetition of vicious acts, a 
tendency is created towards such repetition ; the power 
of the passions is increased ; the power of opposing 
forces is diminished, and the resistance to passion 
requires a greater moral effort ; or, as in the contrary 



9G THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

of tlie preceding case, a greater moral effort is required 
to resist our passions, while the moral power to resist 
them is diminished. 

Now, the obvious nature of such a tendency is to 
arrive at a fixed and unalterable moral state. Be the 
fact accounted for as it may I think that habit has 
such an effect upon the will, as to establish a tendency 
towards the impossibility to resist it. Thus the practice 
of virtue seems to tend towards rendering a man inca- 
pable of vice, and the practice of vice towards rendering 
a man incapable of virtue. It is common to speak of 
a man as incapable of meanness ; and I think we see 
men as often, in the same sense, incapable of virtue. 
And if I mistake not, we always speak of the one inca- 
pacity as an object of praise, and of the other as an 
object of blame. 

If we inquire what are the moral effects of such a 
condition of our being, I think we shall find them to be 
as follows : 

1. Habit cannot alter the nature of an action, as 
riglit or wrong. It can alter neither our relations to 
our fellow-creatures nor to God, nor the obligations 
consequent upon those relations. Hence the character 
of the action must remain unaffected. 

2. Nor can it alter the guilt or innocence of the actor. 
As he who acts virtuously is entitled to the benefit of 
virtuous action, among which the tendency to virtuous 
action is included, so he who acts viciously is responsible 
for all the consequences of vicious action, the corre- 
spondent tendency to vicious action also included. The 
conditions being equal, and he being left to his own free 
choice, the consequences of either course rest justly 
upon himself. 

The final causes of such a constitution are also 
apparent. 

1. It is manifestly and precisely adapted to our pres- 
ent state, when considered as probationary, and capable 
of moral changes, and terminating in one where moral 
change is impossible. The constitution under which 
we are placed presents us with the apparent paradox 



OF VIRTUE IN IMi^ERFECT BEINGS. 97 

of a state of incessant moral change, in which every 
individual change has a tendency to produce a state that 
is unchangeahle. 

2. The fact of such a constitution is manifestly in- 
tended to present the strongest possible incentives to 
virtue, and monitions against vice. It teaches us that 
consequences are attached to every act of both, not only 
present but future, and, so far as we can see, intermin- 
able. As every one can easily estimate the pleasures 
of vice and the pains of virtue, both in extent and du- 
ration ; but as no one, taking into consideration the 
results of the tendency which each will produce, can 
estimate the interminable consequences which must 
arise from either, — there is, therefore, hence derived 
the strongest possible reason why we should always do 
right and never do wrong. 

3. And again. It is evident that our capacity for 
increase in virtue depends greatly upon the present 
constitution in respect to habit. I have remarked that 
the effect of the repetition of virtuous action was to 
give us greater morcil power, while the given action 
itself required less moral effort. There hence arises, if 
I may so say, a surplus of moral power, which may be 
applied to the accomplishment of greater moral achieve- 
ments. He who has overcome one evil temper has 
acquired moral power to overcome another, and that 
which was first subdued is kept in subjection without a 
struggle. He who has formed one habit of virtue, 
practises it without effort as a matter of course, or of 
original impulse ; and the power thus acquired may be 
applied to the attainment of other and more difficult 
liabits, and the accomplishment of higher and more 
arduous moral enterprises. He who desires to see the 
influence of habit illustrated with great beauty and ac- 
curacy, will be gratified by the perusal of " The Hermit 
of Teneriffe," one of the most delightful allegories to 
be found in the English language.^ 

The relation between the moral and the intellectual 



J Johnson's Works, Vol. xi., p. 333. Murphy's edition. 

9 



9S THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

powers, in the moral conditions of our being, may -bo 
thus briefly stated : 

1. We are created under certain relations to our Cre- 
ator and to our fellow-creatures. 

2. We are created under certain obligations to our 
Creator and our fellow-creatures, in consequence of 
these relations, — obligations to exercise certain affec- 
tions, and to maintain courses of action correspondent 
to those affections. 

8. By means of our intellectual powers we perceive 
these relations. 

4. By means of our moral powers we become con- 
scious of these obligations. 

5. The consciousness of these obligations alone would 
not always teach us how they were to be discharged ; 
as, for example, the consciousness of our obligations to 
God would not teach us how God should be worshipped, 
and so in various other cases. It is by the use of the 
powers of our intellect that we learn how these moral 
affections are to be caried into action. The use of the 
intellect is, therefore, twofold : first, to discover to us 
our relations ; secondly, to discover m what manner 
our obligations are to be discharged. 



CHAPTEE IV. 

HmiAN HAPPINESS. 

We have already, on several occasions, alluded to the 
fact that God has created every thing double — a world 
t\-ithout us, and a correspondent world within us. He 
has made light without, and the eye within ; beauty 
tvithout, and taste within ; moral qualities in actions, 
and conscience to judge of them ; and so of every other 
ease. By means of this correspondence, our communi- 
cation with the external world exists. 

These internal powers are called into exercise by the 
presence of their correspondent -external objects. Thus 
the organ of vision is excited by the presence of light, 
the sense of smell by odors, the faculty of taste bj 
beauty or by deformity, and so of the rest. 

The first effect of this exercise of these faculties is, 
that we are conscious of the existence and qualities of 
surrounding objects. Thus by sight we become con- 
scious of. the existence and colors of visible objects ; by 
"hearing, of the existence and sound of audible objects, etc. 

But it is manifest that this knowledge of the exist- 
once and qualities of external objects is far frona being 
all the intercourse which we are capable of holding with 
them. This knowledge of their existence and qualities 
is most frequently attended with pleasure or pain, desire 
or aversion. Sometimes the mere perception itself is 
immediately pleasing ; in other cases, it is merely the 
sign of some other quality which has the power of 
pleasing us. In the first case, the perception produces 
gratification ; in the other, it awakens desire. 

That is, we stand in such relations to the external 
world, that certain objects, besides being capal;lc of 



100 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

being perceived, are also capable of giving us pleasure ; 
and certain other objects, besides being perceiveij, are 
capable of giving us pain. Or, to state the same truth 
in the other form, we are so made as to be capable not 
only of perceiving, but also of being pleased with, ov 
pained by, the various objects by which we are sur- 
rounded. 

This general power of being pleased or pained, may 
be, and I think frequently is, termed sensitiveness. 

This sensitiveness, or the power of being made happy 
by surrounding objects, is intimately connected with the 
exercise of our various faculties. Thus the pleasure 
of vision cannot be enjoyed in any other manner than 
by the exercise of tlie faculty of sight. The pleasure 
of knowledge can be enjoyed in no other way than by 
the exercise of the intellectual powers. Tlie pleasure 
of beauty can be enjoyed in no other manner than by 
the exercise of the faculty of taste, and of the othei 
subordinate faculties on which this faculty depends. 
And thus, in general, our sensitiveness derives pleasure 
from the exercise of those powers which are made neces- 
sary for our existence and well-being in our present 
state. 

Now, I think that we can have no other idea of ha}> 
piness than the exercise of this sensitiveness upon itc 
corresponding objects and qualities. It is the graiillcti- 
tion of desire, the enjoyment of what we love ; oz, aa 
Dr. Johnson remarks, " Happiness consists in the mal- 
tiplication of agreeable consciousness." 

It seems, moreover, evident that this very constitution 
is to us an indication of the will of our Creator ; thai 
is, inasmnch as he has created us with these capacities 
for happiness, and has also created objects around us 
precisely adapted to these capacities, he meant that the 
one should be exercised upon tiie other ; that is, that 
we should be made happy in this manner. 

And this is more evident, from considering that this 
happiness is intimately connected with the exercise of 
those faculties, the employment of which is necessary 
to our existence and our well-being. It thus bcccmos 



HUMAN HAPPmESS. 101 

the incitement to or the reward of certain courses of 
conduct, which it is necessary to our own welfare or to 
that of society that we should pursue. 

And thus we arrive at the general principle, that our 
desire for a particular object, and the existence of the 
object adapted to this desire, is in itself a reason why 
we should enjoy that object, in the same manner as our 
aversion to another object is a reason why we should 
avoid it. There may sometimes be, it is true, other 
reasons to the contrary, more authoritative than that 
emanating from this desire or aversion, and these may 
and ought to control it ; but this does not show that 
this desire is not a reason^ and a sufficient one, if no 
better reason can be shown to the contrary. 

But, if we consider the subject a little more minutely, 
we shall find that the simple gratification of desire in 
the manner above stated is not the only condition on 
which our happiness depends. 

We find by experience that a desire or appetite may 
be so gratified as forever afterwards to destroy its power 
of producing happiness. Thus, a certain kind of food 
is pleasant to me ; this is a reason why I should partake 
of it. But I may eat of it to excess, so as to loathe it 
forever afterwards, and thus annihilate in my constitu- 
tion this power of gratification. Now, the same reason 
ing which proves that God intended me to partake of 
this food, namely, because it will promote my happiness, 
also proves that he did not intend me to partake of it 
afte'^' this manner ; for by so doing I have diminished 
by this whole amount my capacity for happiness, and 
thus defeated, in so far, the very end of my constitution. 
Or, again, though I may not destroy my desire for a 
particular kind of food by a particular manner of grat- 
ification, yet I may so derange my constitution that the 
eating of it shall produce pain and distress, so that it 
ceases to be to me a source of happiness wpon the whole. 
In this case I equally defeat the design of my constitu- 
tion. The result equally shows that, although the Cre- 
ator means that I should eat it, he does not mean that 
I should eat it beyond a certain limit. 



E02 rHEORETICAL ETHICS. 

Again, every man is created with various and dissim* 
ilar forms of desire, correspondent to the different exter- 
nal objects designed to promote his happiness. Now, it 
is found that one form of desire may be gratified in such 
a manner as to destroy the power of receiving happiness 
from another ; or, on the contrary, the first may be so 
gratified as to leave the other powers of receiving hap- 
piness unimpaired. Since, then, it is granted that these 
were all given us for the same end, namely, to promote 
our happiness, if by the first manner of gratification 
we destroy another power of gratification, while by the 
second manner of gratification we leave the other power 
of gratification uninjured, it is evidently the design of 
our Creator that we should limit ourselves to this sec- 
ond mode of gratification. 

Thus, I am so formed that food is pleasant to me. 
This, even if there were no necessity for eating, is a 
reason why I should eat it. But I am also formed with 
a desire for knowledge. This is a reason why I should 
study in order to obtain it. That is, God intended me 
to derive happiness from both of these sources of grati- 
fication. If, then, I eat in such a manner that I can- 
not study, or study in such a manner that I cannot eat, 
in either case I defeat his design concerning me, by 
destroying those sources of happiness with which he lias 
created me. The same principle might be illustrated 
in various other instances. 

Again, we find that the indulgence of any one form 
of gratification in such manner as to destroy the power 
of another form of gratification, also in the end dimin- 
ishes and frequently destroys the power of deriving 
happiness even from that which is indulged. Thus, he 
who eats so as to injure his power of intellectual grati 
fication, injures also his digestive organs and produces 
disease, so that his pleasure from eating is diminished. 
Or, he who studies so as to destroy his appetite, in the 
end destroys also his power of study. This is another 
and distinct reason to show that, while I am designed 
to be happy by the gratification of my desires, I am also 
designed to be happy by gratifying them within a limit 



HUMAN HAPPINESS. 103 

The limit to gratification enters into my constitution, 
as a being designed for happiness, just as much as the 
power of gratification itself. 

And again, our Creator has endowed us with an addi- 
tional and superior power, by which we can contemplate 
these two courses of conduct ; by which we can approve 
of the one and disapprove of the other, and by which 
the one becomes a source of pleasure and the other a 
source of pain ; both being separate and distinct from 
the sources of pain and pleasure mentioned above. And, 
moreover, he has so constituted us, that tliis very habit 
of regulating and limiting our desires is absolutely 
essential to our success in every undertaking. Botliof 
these are, therefore, additional and distinct reasons for 
believino: that the restriction of our desires within cer- 
tain limits is made by our Creator as clearly necessary 
to our happiness as the indulgence of them. 

All this is true, if we consider the happiness of man 
merely as an individual. But the case is rendered still 
stronger if we look upon man as a society. It is mani- 
fest that the universal gratification of any single appe- 
tite or passion, without limit, not to say the gratification 
of all, would in a very few years not only destroy soci- 
ety, but absolutely put an end to the wliole human race. 
And hence we see that the limitation of our desires is 
not only necessary to our happiness, but also to our 
existence. 

Hence, while it is the truth that human happiness 
consists in the gratification of our desires, it is not the 
loliole truth. It consists in the gratification of our de- 
sires within the limits assigned to them by our Creator. 
And the happiness of that man will be the most perfect 
who regulates his desires most perfectly in accordance 
witli the laws under which he has been created. And 
hence the greatest happiness of which man is, in his 
present state, capable, is to be attained by conforming 
his whole conduct to the laws of virtue, that is, to the 
will of God. 



CHAPTER V. 

OF SELF-LOVE. 

By tlie tei-m sensitiveness, I have designated the ca- 
pacity of our nature to derive happiness from the various 
objects and qualities of the world around us. Though 
intimately associated with those powers by which we 
obtain a knowledge of external objects, it differs from 
them. When a desire for gratification is excited by its 
appropriate objects, it is termed appetite, passion, etc. 

As our means of gratification are various, and are also 
attended by different effects, there is evidently an oppor- 
tunity for a choice between them. By declining a grat- 
ification at present, we may secure one of greater value 
at some future time. That which is at present agree- 
able, may be, of necessity, followed by pain ; and that 
which is at present painful, may be rewarded by pleas- 
ure which shall far overbalance it. 

Now, it must be evident to every one Vv^ho will reflect, 
that my happiness, at any one period of my existence, 
is just as valuable as my happiness at the present period. 
No one can conceive of any reason why the present mo- 
ment should take the precedence, in any respect, of any 
other moment of my being. Every moment of my past 
life was once present, and seemed of special value ; but 
in the retrospect all seem, so far as the happiness of 
each is concerned, of equal value. Bach of those to 
como may in its turn claim some preeminence ; though 
now we plainly discover in anticipation that no one is 
more than another entitled to it. Nay, if there be any 
difference, it is manifestly in favor of the most distant 
future, in comparison with the present. The longer wo 
exist, the greater is our capacity for virtue and happiness, 



OF SELF-LOVE 105 

end the wider is our sphere of existence. To postpone 
the present for the future seems, therefore, to be the 
dictate of wisdom, if we calmly consider the condition 
of our being. '' Whatever," says Dr. Johnson, " with- 
draws us from the power of our senses ; whatever makes 
the past, the distant, or the future predominate over 
the present, advances us in the dignity of thinking be- 
uigs." — Tour to the Hebrides^ lona. 

But it is of the nature of passion to seize upon the 
present gratification, utterly irrespective of consequen- 
ces, and utterly regardless of other or more excellent 
gratifications which may be obtained by self-denial. 
He whose passions are inflamed, looks at nothing be- 
yond the present gratification. Hence he is liable to 
seize upon a present enjoyment, to the exclusion of a 
much more valuable one in future, and even in such a 
manner as to entail upon himself poignant and reme- 
diless misery. And hence, in order to be enabled to 
enjoy all the happiness of which his present state is 
capable, the sensitive part of man needs to be combined 
with another, which, upon a comparison of the present 
with tlie future, shall impel him towards that mode 
either of gratification or of self-denial, which shall most 
promote his happiness upon the whole. 

Such is self-love. We give this name to that part of 
our constitution by which we are incited to do or to 
forbear, to gratify or to deny our desires, simply on the 
ground of obtaining the greatest amount of happiness 
for ourselves, taking into view a limited future, or else 
our entire future existence. When we act from simple 
respect to present gratification, we act from passion. 
When we act from a respect to our whole individual 
happiness, without regard to the present, only as it is a 
part of the whole, we are then said to act from self-love. 

The difference between these two modes of impulsion 
may be easily illustrated. 

Suppose a man destitute of self-love, and actuated 
only by passion. He would seize without reflection, 
and enjoy without limit, every object of gratification 
which the present moment might offer, without regard 



lOG THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

to its value in comparison with others, which might be 
secured by self-denial, and without any regard to the 
consequences which might follow present pleasure be 
they ever so disastrous. 

On the contrary, we may imagine a being destitute 
of passions, and impelled only by self-love ; that is, by 
a desire for his own happiness on the whole. In this 
case, so far as I see, he would never act at all. Hav- 
ing no desires to gratify, there could be no gratification ; 
and hence there could be no happiness. Happiness is 
the result of the exercise of our sensitiveness upon its 
corresponding objects. But we have no sensitiveness 
which corresponds to any object in ourselves ; nor do 
ourselves present any object to correspond to such sen- 
sitiveness. Hence the condition of a being destitute of 
passions, and actuated only by self-love, would be an 
indefinite and most painful longing after happiness, 
without the consciousness of any relation to external 
objects which could p;iatify it. Nor is this an entirely 
imaginary condition. In cases of deep melancholy, and 
of iixed hypochondria, tending to derangement, I think 
every one must have observed in others, and he is 
happy if he have not experienced in himself, the ten- 
dencies to precisely such a state. The very power of 
affection, or sensitiveness, seems paralyzed. This state 
of mind has, I think, been ascribed to Hamlet by 
Shakspeare, in the following passfige : 

" I have of late (but wherefore I know not) lost all 
my mirth, foregone all custom of exercises ; and, in- 
deed, it goes so heavily with my cJispositions, that this 
goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promon- 
tory ; this most excellent canopy, the air — look you — 
this Ibrave overhanging firmament ; this majestical roof, 
fretted with golden fire ; why, it appears no other thing 
to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors. 
Man delights me not, nor woman neither, though by 
your smiling you seem to say so." — Ham kt, Act ii., 
Scene 2. 

It would seem," therefore, that self-love is not in itself 
a faculty, or part of our constitution in itself produc 



OF SELF-LOVi; 107 

tive of happiness, but rather an ^Jipulse which, out of 
several forms of gratification which may be presented, 
inclines us to select that which will be the most for our 
happiness considered as a whole. This seems the more 
evident from the obvious fact that a man, actuated by 
the most zealous self-love, derives no more happiness 
from a given gratification than any other man. llis 
pleasure in any one act of enjoyment is not in the ratio 
of his self-love, but of his sensitiveness. 

From these remarks we can easily determine the 
rank to wliich self-love is entitled. 

1. Its rank is superior to that of passion. As our 
happiness, as a wholC; is of more consequence than the 
happiness of any separate moment, so the faculty which 
impels us towards our happiness upon the v/hole was 
manifestly intended to control that which impels toward 
our happiness for a moment. If happiness be deshable, 
the greatest amount of it is most desirable ; and as we 
are provided with a constitution by which we are fore- 
warned of the difference, and impelled to a correct 
choice, it is the design of our Creator that we should 
obey it. 

2. Its rank is inferior to that of conscience. We are 
made not only sensitive beings, that is, beings capable 
of happiness, but also moral beings, that is, beings ca- 
pable of virtue. The latter is manifestly the most im- 
portant object of our being, even in so far as our own 
happiness is concerned ; for, by the practice of virtue, 
without respect to our own temporal happiness, we se- 
cure our moral happiness, the most valuable of any of 
which, even at the present, we are capable ; while, by 
acting for own happiness, when these seem to come 
into competition, we lose that which is most valuable, 
and can be by no means certain of obtaining the other. 
That is to say, when our own happiness and our duty 
seem to come into collision, we are bound to discard 
the consideration of our own happiness, and to do what 
we believe to be right. 

This may be illustrated by an example. 

Suppose that two courses of action are presented to 



108 • THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

our choice. The one, so far as we can see, will pro- 
mote our individual happiness ; the other will fulfil a 
moral obligation. Now, in this case, we may act in 
either of these ways : 

1. We may seek our own happiness, and violate our 
obligations. In this case we certainly lose the pleasure 
of virtue, and suffer the pain of remorse, while we must 
be uncertain whether we shall obtain the object of our 
desires. 

2. We may perform the act which conscience indi- 
cates, but from our self-love as a motive. Here we 
shall gain whatever reward, by the constitution under 
which we are placed, belongs to the action ; but we 
lose the pleasure of virtue. 

3. We may perform the act indicated by conscience, 
and from the simple impulse of duty. In this case we 
obtain every reward which could be obtained in the 
preceding case, and in addition are blessed with the 
approbation of conscience. Thus, suppose I deliberate 
whether I shall spend a sum of money in self-gratifica- 
tion, or else in an act of benevolence, which is plainly 
my duty. If I pursue the former course, it is very 
uncertain whether I actually secure the gratification 
which I seek, while I lose the pleasure of rectitude, and 
am saddened by the pains of remorse. The pleasure 
of gratification is soon over, but the pain of guilt is 
enduring. Or, again, I may perform the act of benev- 
olence from love of applause, or some modification of 
self-love. I here obtain with more certainty the repu- 
tation which I seek, but lose the reward of conscious 
virtue. Or, thirdly, if I do the act without any regard 
to my own happiness, and simply from love to God and 
man, I obtain all the rewards which attach to the ac- 
tion by the constitution under which I am placed, and 
also enjoy the higher rewards of conscious rectitude. 

Tliis subordination of motives seems clearly to be re- 
ferred to by our Saviour : '^ There is no man that hath 
left house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, 
or wife, or children, or lands, /or my sake and the gos" 
peFs, but he shall receive an hundred-fold now in this 



OF SELF-LOVE. 109 

time, and in the world to come life everlasting." That 
is to say, a man does not obtain the reward of virtue, 
even in self-denial, unless he disregard the consideration 
of himself, and act from simple love to God. To the 
same purport is the often-repeated observation of our 
Saviour : " Whosoever will save his life shall lose it ; 
and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find 
it." There are many passages of Scripture which seem 
to assert that the very turning-point of moral character, 
so far as our relations to God are concerned, consists in 
yielding up the consideration of our own happiness as 
a controlling motive, and subjecting it without reserve 
to the higher motive, the simple will of God. 
If these remarks be true, we see, 

1. That when conscience speaks, the voice of self-love 
must be silent. That is to say, we have no right to seek 
our own happiness in any manner at variance with 
moral obligation. Nevertheless, from several courses of 
action, either of which is innocent, we are at liberty to 
choose that which will most conduce to our own happi- 
ness. In such a case, the consideration of our happiness 
is justly ultimate. 

2. The preceding chapter has shown us that man was 
designed to be made happy by the gratification of his 
desires. The present chapter teaches us that when the 
gratification of desire is at variance with virtue, a 
greater happiness is to be obtained by self-denial. Or, 
in other words, our greatest happiness is to be obtained, 
not by the various modes of self-gratification, but by 
simply seeking the good of others, and in doing the will 
of God from the heart. 

3. And hence we may arrive at the general principle, 
that every impulse or desire is supreme ivithin its own 
assigned limits ; but that, when a lower comes into 
competition with a higher impulsion, the inferior accom- 
plishes its own object most perfectly by being wholly 
subject to the superior. Thus desire, or the love of 
present gratification, may within its own limits be in- 
dulged. But when this present gratification comes into 
competition with self-love, even passion accomplishes 

10 



ItO THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

its own object oest ; that is, a man actually attains to 
more enjoyment by submitting pi^esent desire implici tly 
to self-love. And so self-love is ultimate within its 
proper limits ; but when it comes into competition w ith 
conscience, it actually accomplishes its own object best 
by being entirely subject to that which the Creator \ las 
constituted its superior. 

4. The difference between self-love as an innoctnt 
part of our constitution, and selfishness, a vicious dis) o- 
sition, may be easily seen. Self-love properly directs 
our choice of objects where both are equally innoce^rt. 
Selfishness is a similar disposition to promote our o^ u 
happiness upon the whole : but it disposes us to seek it 
in objects over which we have no just control ; that is, 
which are not innocent, and which we could not enjoy 
without violating our duties either to God or to oai 
neighbor. 



CHAPTER VI, 



IMPERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE ; NECESSITY OF SOME 
ADDITIONAL MORAL LIGHT. 

It has been already remarked that a distinction may 
be very clearly observed between right and wrong, and 
guilt and innocence. Right and wrong depend upon 
the relations under which we are created, and the obli- 
gations resulting from them, and are in their nature 
immutable. Guilt and innocence have respect to the 
individual, and are modified, moreover, by the amount 
of his knowledge of his duty, and are not decided solely 
by the fact that the action was or was not performed. 

It is, moreover, to be observed that the results of these 
two attributes of action may be seen to differ. Thus 
every right action is followed, in some way, by pleasure 
or benefit to the individual ; and every wrong one by 
pain or discomfort, irrespective of the guilt or inno- 
cence of the author of the act. Thus, in the present 
constitution of things, it is evident that a nation which 
had no knowledge of the wickedness of murder, re- 
venge, uncleanness, or theft, would, if it violated the 
moral law in these respects, suffer the consequences 
which are attached to these actions by our Creator. 
And, on the contrary, a nation which practised forgive- 
ness, mercy, honesty, and purity, without knowing them 
to be right, would enjoy the benefits which are connected 
with such actions. 

Now, whatever be the object of this constitution by 
which happiness or misery is consequent upon actions 
as right or wrong, whether it be as a monition, or to 
inform us of the will of God concerning us, one thing 
seems evident, — it is not luholhj to punish actions as 



112 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

innocent or guilty : for the happiness or misery of which 
wo speak aifects men simply in consequence of the action, 
and without any regard to the innocence or guilt of the 
actor. 

Let us now add another element. Suppose a man to 
know the obligations which bind him to his Creator, 
and also what is his Creator's will respecting a certain 
action, and that he then deliberately violates this obli- 
gation. Every man feels that this violation of obliga- 
tion deserves punishment on its own account, and also 
punishment in proportion to the greatness of the obli- 
gation violated. Hence the consequences of any action 
are to be considered in a twofold light : first, the con- 
sequences depending upon the present constitution of 
tilings ; and, secondly, those which follow the action as 
innocent or guilty ; that is, as violatijig or not violating 
our obligations to our Creator. 

These two things are plainly to be considered distinct 
from each other. Of the one we can form some esti- 
mate ; of the other, none whatever. Thus, whatever be 
the design of the constitution, by which pain should be 
consequent upon wrong actions, irrespective of guilt ; 
whether it be to admonish us of dangers, or to intimate 
to us the will of our Creator ; we can have some con- 
ception how great it would probably be. But if we 
consider the action as guilty, — that is, as violating the 
known will of our Creator, — no one can conceive how 
great the punishment of such an act ought to be, for 
no one can conceive how vast is the obligation which 
binds^a creature to his Creator ; nor, on the other hand, 
can any one conceive how vast would be the reward if 
this obligation were perfectly fulfilled. 

As, then, every moral act is attended with pleasure or 
pain, and as every one also exposes us to the punish- 
ments or rewards of guilt or innocence, both of which 
manifestly transcend our power of conception ; and if 
such be our constitution that every moment is render- 
ing our moral condition either better or worse ; specially 
if this world be a state of probation, tending to a state 
i^J-isre change is impossible ; it is manifestly of the 



BIPERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE. 113 

greatest possible importance that we should both know 
our duty, and be furnished with all suitable impulsions 
to perform it. The constitution under which man is 
formed in this respect has been explained at the close 
of the chapter on virtue. And were the intellect and 
conscience of man to be in a perfect state, and were he 
in entire harmony with the universe around him, there 
can be no doubt that his happiness in the present state 
would be perfectly secured. 

It would not, however, be certain that, with intellect- 
ual and moral powers suited to his station, man would 
be in no need of further communication from his Maker. 
Although his feeling of obligation, and his desire to dis- 
charge it, might be perfect, yet he might not be fully 
aware of the manner in which this obligation should 
be discharged. Thus, though our first parents were 
endowed witli a perfect moral constitution, yet it was 
necessary that God should make to them a special rev- 
elation respecting some portion of his will. Such might 
also be the case in any other instance of a perfect moral 
constitution in a being of limited capacity. 

How much more evidently is additional light neces- 
sary, when it is remembered that the moral constitution 
of man seems manifestly to be imperfect! This may be 
observed in several respects : 

1. There are many obligations under which man is 
created, both to his fellow-creatures and to God, which 
his unassisted conscience does not discover. Such are 
the obligations to universal forgiveness, to repentance, 
and many otiicrs. 

2. When the obligations are acknowledged, man 
frequently errs in respect to the mode in which they aro 
to be discharged. Thus, a man may acknowledge his 
obligations to God, but may suppose that God will be 
pleased with a human sacrifice. A man may acknowl- 
edge his obligation to love his children, but may be* 
Ueve that this obligation may best be discharged, under 
certain circumstances, by putting them to death. Now, 
it is manifest that in both these cases a man must suf 
fer many of the present evils resulting Irom such a 

10* 



114 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

course, just as much as though he knowingly violated 
tliese obhgatious. 

3. When men know both the obhgatious under which 
they are created, and the mode in which they are to be 
discharged, they wilfully disobey the monitions of con- 
science. We act according to the impulsions of blind, 
headlong passion, regardless of our own best good, and 
of the welfare of others, in despite of what we know to 
be the will of our Maker. It is a melancholy fact that 
men do deliberately violate the commands of God for 
the sake of the most transient and trifling gratification. 
Hence the hackneyed confession : 

Video, proboque meliora; 
Deteriora sequor. 

And hence it is evident that not only are men expos- 
ing themselves to the pains attendant upon wrong 
actions during the present life, but they are also exposing 
themselves to the punishments, how great and awful 
soever these may be, which are incurred by violating 
our obligations to our Creator and our Judge. The state 
of human nature in these respects I suppose to be 
vividly set forth by St. Paul in the Epistle to the 
Romans, ch. vii. v. 7-25, 

If such be our state, it is manifest that, under such a 
moral constitution as we have above described, our 
condition must be sufficiently hopeless. Unless some- 
thing be done, it would seem that we must all fail of a 
large portion of the happiness to which we might other- 
wise in the present life attain ; and, still more, must be 
exposed to a condemnation greater than we are capable 
of conceiving. 

Under such circumstances it surely is not improba- 
ble tliat a benevolent Deity should make use of some 
additional means to inform iis of our duty, and thus 
warn us of the evils which we are bringing upon our- 
selves. Still less is it improbable that a God delight- 
ing in right should take some means to deliver us 
from the guilty habits which we have formed, and 
restore us to that love and practice of virtue which can 



IMPERFECnOX OF COXSCIEXCE. 115 

alone render us pleasing to him. That God was under 
any obligation to do this, is not asserted ; but that a 
being of infinite compassion and benevolence should do 
it, though not under any obligation, is surely not im- 
probable. 

Should a revelation be made to remedy the defects 
of man's moral state, we can form some conceptions of 
what might be expected in order to accomplish such a 
result. 

1. Our defective knowledge of moral obligation might 
be remedied by a clear view of the attributes of God, 
and of the various relations which we sustain to him. 

2. Our io'norance of the mode in which our oblio-a- 
tions should be discharged, might be dispelled, either by 
a more expanded view of the consequences of actions, 
or by direct precept. 

3. In order to overcome our temper of disobedience, 
I know not what means might be employed. A reason- 
able one would seem to be a manifestation of the char- 
acter of the Deity to us ui some new relation, Civatmg 
some now obligations, and thus opening a new courco 
of moral motives within the soul of man. 

The first and second of these objects are acconriplished, 
as I suppose, by the discoveries of natural religion, and 
by the promulgation of the moral law under the Old 
Testament dispensation. Tlie third is accomplished by 
the revelation of the facts of the New Testament, and 
specially by the revelation of God as the author of a 
new and a remedial dispensation. 

Hence we see that the soiTrces of moral light, irre 
spective of conscience, are, 

1. The precepts of natural religion. 

2. The precepts and motives of the sacred Scriptures. 
From what has been remarked in the present chapter, 

a few inferences naturally arise, which I will insert in 
this place. 

It is mentioned above that the evil consequences of 
doing wrong are manifestly of two kinds. First, tliose 
connected with an action as right or ivrong, and arising 
from the present constitution of things ; and, secondly, 



116 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

those resulting from the action as innocent or guilty ; 
that is, as wilfully violating or not violating the obliga- 
tions due to our Maker. 

Now, from this plain distinction we see, 

1. That no sin can be of trifling consequence. The 
least as well as the greatest being a violation of an 
obligation more sacred and awful than we can conceive, 
must expose us to punishment more dreadful than we 
can comprehend. If it be said the thing in itself is a 
trifle, the answer is obvious : How wicked must it be, 
for the sake of a trifle to violate so sacred and solemn 
an obligation as that which binds us to our Creator ! 

2. Hence we see how unfounded is the assertion 
sometimes made, that God could not, for the momentary 
actions of this short life, justly inflict upon us any 
severe or long-enduring punishment. If an act, whether 
long or short, be a violation of our obligations to God ; 
if ill-desert be according to the greatness of the obliga- 
tion violated ; and if no one can pretend to compre- 
hend the vastness of the obligations which bind the 
creature to the Creator ; then no one can, d priori, 
pretend to decide what is the punishment justly due to 
every act of wilful wickedness, — especially when it is 
remembered that a single act of sin transforms man's 
nature, and renders him permanently a rebel against 
God. It is evident that no one can decide this question 
but he who fully knows the relation between the parties ; 
that is, the Creator himself. 

3. Since every impure, revengeful, deceitful or envi- 
ous thought is a violation of our obligations to our 
Maker, and much more the words and actions to which 
tliese thoughts give rise ; and since even the imperfect 
conscience of every individual accuses him of countless 
instances, if not of habits, of such violation ; if the pre- 
ceding observations be just, it is manifest that our 
present moral condition involves the elements of much 
that is alarming. It surely must be the duty of every 
reasonable man to inquire, with the deepest solicitude, 
whether any way of escape from punishment and any 
means of moral renovation have been revealed by the 



BIPERFECTION OF CONSCIENCE. 117 

Being against whom we have sinned ; and if any such 
revelation have been made, it must be our most solemn 
duty to conform our lives to such principles as shall 
enable us to avail ourselves of its provisions. 

4. The importance of this duty will be still more clearly 
evident if we consider that the present is a state of pro- 
bation, in which alone moral change is possible, and 
which must speedily terminate in a state by necessity 
unchangeable ; for which, also, the present state there- 
fore offers us the only opportunity of preparation. To 
neglect either to possess ourselves of all the knowledge 
in our power on this subject, or to neglect to obey any 
reasonable precepts which afford the least probability of 
improving our condition for the future, seems a degree 
of folly for which it is really impossible to find an ade- 
quate epithet. 

5. Nor does it render this folly the less reprehensible 
for a man gravely to assert that we do not know any- 
thing about the future world, and therefore it is need- 
less to inquire respecting it. Tliis is to assert, ivithout 
inquiry, what could only be reasonably asserted after 
the most full and persevering iyiquiry. No man can 
reasonably assert that we know nothing respecting the 
other world until he has examined every system of 
religion within his knowledge, and by the fair and 
legitimate use of his understanding shown conclusively 
that none of them throw any light upon the subject. 
By what right, therefore, can a man utter such an 
assertion, who at the outset declares that he will exam- 
me ]ione of them ? What should we think of the man 
who declared that he would not study astronomy, for 
that no one knew more about the heavens than he did 
himself? Yet many men neglect to inform themselves 
on the subject of religion for no better reason. It is very 
remarkable that men do not perceive the absurdity of an 
assertion respecting religion^ which they would imme- 
dia.tely perceive if uttered^ respecting anything else. 



CHAPTER VII. 

OF NATURAL RELIGION. 

In the preceding chapter I have endeavored to illus- 
trate the nature of our moral constitution, and to show 
that, in our present state, conscience, unassisted, mani- 
festly fails to produce the results which seem to have 
been intended, and which are necessary to our attain- 
ing the happiness which is put within our power, and 
to our avoiding the misery to which we are exposed. 
That some additional light will be granted to us, and 
that some additional moral power will be imparted, 
seems clearly not improbable. This I suppose to have 
been done by the truths of natural and revealed religion. 
In the present chapter I shall treat of natural religion 
under the following heads : 

1. The manner in which we may learn our duty by 
the light of nature. 

2. The extent to which our knowledge of duty can be 
carried by this mode of teachnig. 

3. The defects of the system of natural religion. 



SECTION I. 

OF THE MANNER IN WHICH WE MAY LEARN OUR DUTY BY THB 
LIGHT OF NATURE. 

In treating upon this subject it is taken for granted, 

1. That there is an intelligent and universal First 

Cause, who made us as we are, and made all things 



HOW WE MAY LEARN OUR DUTY. 119 

around us capable of affecting us, both as individuals 
and as societies, as they do. 

2. Tliat He had a design in so making us, and in con- 
stituting the relations around us as they are constituted ; 
and that a part of that design was to intimate to us his 
will concerning us. 

3. That we are capable of observing these relations, 
and of knowing how various actions affect us and affect 
others. 

4. And that we are capable of learning the design 
with which these various relations were constituted ; and, 
specially, that part of the design which was to intimate 
to us the will of our Creator. 

The application of these self-evident principles to the 
subject of duty is easy. We know that we are so made 
as to derive happiness from some courses of conduct, 
and to suffer unhappiness from others. Now, no one 
can doubt that the intention of our Creator in these 
cases was that we should pursue the one course and 
avoid the other. Or, again, we are so made that we are 
rendered unhappy, on the whole, by pursuing a course 
of conduct in some particular manner, or beyond a cer- 
tain degree. This is an intimation of our Creator re- 
specting the manner and the degree in which he designs 
us to pursue that course of conduct. 

Again, as has been said before, society is necessary, 
not merely to the happiness, but to the actual existence, 
of the race of man. Hence it is necessary, in estimat- 
ing the tendency of actions upon our own happiness, to 
extend our view beyond the direct effect of an action 
upon ourselves. Thus, if we cannot perceive that any 
evil would result to ourselves from a particular course 
of action, yet, if it would tend to injure society, specially 
if it would tend to destroy society altogether, we may 
hence arrive at a clear indication of the will of our Cre- 
ator concerning it. As the destruction of society would 
be the destruction of the individual, it is as evident that 
God does not intend us to do what would injure society, 
as that he does not intend us to do what would injure 
our own bodies, or diminish our individual happiness. 



120 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

And the principle of limitation suggested above applies 
in the same manner here ; that is, if a course of conduct, 
pursued in a certain manner, or to a certain extent, be 
beneficial to society, and if pursued in another manner, 
or beyond a certain extent, is injurious to it ; the indi- 
cation is in this respect clear as to the will of our Maker 
respecting us. 

To apply this to particular cases. Suppose a man 
were in doubt whether or not drunkenness were agree- 
able to the will of his Maker. Let us suppose that in- 
temperate drinking produces present pleasure, but that 
it also produces subsequent pain ; and that, by contin- 
uance in the habit, the pleasure becomes less, and the 
pain greater ; and that the pain affects various powers 
of the mind, and different organs of the body. Let a 
man look around him and survey the crime, the vice, 
the disease, and the poverty, which God has set over 
against the momentary gratification of the palate, and 
the subsequent excitement which it produces. Now, 
whoever will look at these results, and will consider 
that God had a design in creating things to affect us 
as they do, must be as fully convinced that, by these 
results, he intended to forbid intemperance, as though 
he had said so by a voice from heaven. The same prin- 
ciple may be applied to gluttony, libertinism, or any 
other vice. 

Another example may be taken from the case of re- 
venge. Revenge is that disposition which prompts us 
to inflict pain upon another for the sake of alleviating 
the feeling of personal degradation consequent upon an 
injury. Now, suppose a man', inflamed and excited by 
this feeling of injury, should inflict upon the other parly 
pain,until his excited feeling was gratified, the injured 
party would then manifestly become the injurer ; and 
thus the original injurer would be, by the same rule, 
entitled to retaliate. Thus revenge and retaliation 
would go on increasing until the death of one of the 
parties. The duty of vengeance would then devolve 
upon the surviving friends and lelatives of the deceased, 
and the circle would widen until it involved whole tribes 



HOW TVE MAY LEAEX OUR DUTY. 121 

or natioiioc Thus the incliilgence of this one evil pas- 
sion wonld in a few generations render the thronged 
city an unpeopled solitude. Nor is this a mere imagin- 
ary case. The Indians of North America are known to 
have considered the indulgence of revenge not merely 
as innocent, but also as glorious, and in some sense 
obligatory. The result was, that, at the time of the dis- 
covery of this continent, they were universally engaged 
iji wars, and, according to the testimony of their oldest 
and wisest chiefs, their numbers were rapidly diminish- 
ing. And hence, he who observes the effect of revenge 
upon society must be cominced, that He who formed 
the constitution under which we live must have intended 
by these effects to have forbidden it as clearly as though 
He had made it known by language. He has given us 
an understanding, by the simplest exercise of which 
we arrive at this conclusion. 

It is still further to be observed, that, whenever a 
course of conduct produces individual, it also produces 
social misery ; and whenever a course of conduct vio- 
lates the social laws of our being, it of necessity pro- 
duces individual misery. And hence we see that both 
of these indications are combined to teach us the same 
lesson ; that is, to intimate to us what is and what is 
not the will of God respecting our conduct. 

Hence we see that two views may be taken of an 
action when it is contemplated in the light of nature : 
fii'st, as affecting ourselves ; and, secondly, as affecting 
both ourselves and society, but specially the latter. It 
is in this latter view that we introduce the doctrine of 
general consequences. We ask, in order to determine 
wliat is our duty, What would be the result, if this or 
that action were universally practised among men ? Or, 
how would it affect the happiness of mdividuals, and of 
the whole ? By the answer to these questions we as- 
certain what is the will of God in respect to that action, 
or that course of action. When once the will of God is 
ascertained, conscience, as we have shown, teaches us 
that we are under the highest obligation to obey it. 
Thus, from the consideration of the greatest amount of 
11 



122 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

happiness, we arrive at the knowledge of our duty, not 
directly, but indirectly. Tlic feeling of moral obligation 
does not arise from i\\Q simple fact that such a course of 
conduct ivill or will not produce the greatest amount of 
happiness, but from the fact that this tendency shows 
us what is the will of our Creator ; and we are, by the 
principles of our nature, under the highest possible obli- 
gation to obey that will. 

It must be evident that a careful observation of the 
results and tendencies of actions, and of different courses 
of conduct, will teach us, in very many respects, the 
laws of our moral nature ; that is, what in these respects 
is the will of our Creator. Now, these laws, thus arrived 
at, and reduced to order and arrangement, form the 
system of natural religion. So far as it goes, every one 
must confess such a system to be valuable ; and it, 
moreover, rests upon as sure and certain a basis as any 
system of laws whatever. 

To all this, however, I know but of one objection that 
can be urged. It is, that pain is not, of necessity, puni- 
tive or prohibitory ; and that it may be merely monitory 
or advisory. 

To this it may be answered, that this distinction, were 
it ever so true, does not invalidate the views which we 
have taken. It matters not whether the pains which 
we suffer from an action be monitory or prohibitory ; 
either plainly indicates the will of the Creator, and this 
is all that he desires to make known to us. Having 
done this, he leaves us, as free and responsible agents, 
to take our own choice, and act according to our own 
will. He makes known to us in this manner his will, 
but he does not prevent us from acting at variance with 
it if we so choose, — being, however, always responsible 
to him for our actions. 

From what has been said, I think we may safely con- 
^.lude : 

1. That God has given to man a moral and an intel- 
.oCtual constitution, by which he may be admonished 
of his duty. 

2. That he allows man to act freely, and to do either 
right or wrong, as he chooses. 



HOW FAR WE MAY DISCOVER OITR DUTY. 123 

o. That he, in tho present life, has conneetod pleas- 
ure witli tlie doing of right, and pain with the doing 
of wrong ; and that these pleasures and pains affect 
both the individual and society. 

4. And hence that, from an attentive observation of 
the results of actions upon individuals and upon soci- 
ety, we may ascertain what is the will of God concern- 
ing us. 

5. And for all the opportunities of thus ascertaining 
his will by his dealings with men — that is, by the light 
of nature — God holds all his creatures responsible. 



SECTION II. 



HOW FAR WE MAY DISCOVER OUR DUTY BY THE LIGHT OF 
NATURE. 



It has been shown that we may, by observing the 
results of our actions upon individuals, and upon so- 
ciety, ascertain what is the will of our Creator concern- 
ing us. In this manner we may discover much moral 
truth, which would be unknown were we left to the 
guidance of conscience unassisted ; and we may derive 
many motives to virtue which would otherwise be inop- 
erative. 

I. By the light of nature we discover much moral 
truth which could never be discovered by conscience 
unassisted. 

1. Conscience indicates to us our obligations to others 
when our relations to them are discovered, and impels 
us toward that course of conduct which the understand- 
ing points out as corresponding with these obligations. 
But there are many obligations which conscience seems 
not to point out to men, and many ways of fulfilling 
these obligations which the understanding does not 
clearly indicate. In these respects we may be greatly 
assisted by natural religion. 



124 THEORETICAL ETHICS- 

Thus, I doubt wlietlicr the unassisted conscieri</0 
would teach the wrong of polygamy or of divorce. TK« 
Jews, even at the time of our Saviour, had no concep- 
tion that a marriage contract was obligatory for life. 
But any one who will observe the effects of polygamy 
upon families and societies, can have no doubt that 
the precept of the gospel on this subject is the moral 
law of the system under which we are. So, I do not 
know that unassisted conscience would remonstrate 
against what might be called reasonable revenge, or 
the operation of the Lex Talionis. But he who will 
observe the consequences of revenge, and those of for- 
giveness of injuries, will have no difficulty in deciding 
which course of conduct has been indicated as his duty 
by his Maker. 

2. The extent of obligations previously known to 
exist is made known more clearly by the light of na- 
ture. Conscience might teach us the obligations to 
love our friends, or our countrymen, but it might not 
go further. The results of different courses of conduct 
would clearly show that our Creator intended us to 
love all men of every nation, and even our enemies. 

3. It is by observing the results of our actions that 
we learn the limitations which our Creator has affixed 
to our desires, as we have shown in the chapter on hap- 
piness. The simple fact that gratification of our desires, 
beyond a certain limit, will produce more misery than 
happiness, addresses itself to our self-love^ and forms a 
reason why that limit should not be transgressed. The 
fact that this limit was fixed by our Creator, and that 
he has thus intimated to us his will, addresses itself to 
our conscience^ and places us under obligation to act as 
he has commanded, on pain of his displeasure. 

4. In many cases, where the obligation is acknowl- 
edged, we might not be able, without the light of nat- 
ural religion, to decide in what manner it could best be 
discharged. Thus a man who felt conscious of his 
obligations as a parent, and wished to discharge them, 
would derive much valuable information by inquiring 
what mode of exhibiting parental love had produced 



HOW FAR WE MAY DISCOTER OTTR DUTY. 125 

tlie happiest results. He would hence be able the 
better to decide what was obligatory upon him. 

In this manner it cannot be doubted that much valu- 
able knowledge of moral truth might be acquired, be- 
yond what is attainable by unassisted conscience. But 
this is not all. 

11. Natural religion presents additional motives to the 
practice of virtue. 

1. It does this, in the first place, by more clearly 
setting before us the rewards of virtue and the punish- 
ments of vice. Conscience forewarns us against crime, 
and inflicts its own peculiar punishment upon guilt ; 
but natural religion informs us of the additional con- 
sequences, independent of ourselves, which attach to 
moral action, according to the constitution under which 
we are created. Thus, conscience might forewarn a 
man against dishonesty, and might inflict upon him the 
pains of remorse, if he had stolen ; but its monition 
would surely derive additional power from an observa- 
tion of the effect which must be produced upon individ- 
uals and societies by the practice of this immorality , 
and also by the contrary elfects which must arise from 
the opposite virtue. 

2. Still further. Natural religion presents us with 
more distinct and affecting views of the character of 
God than could be obtained without it. One of the 
first aspirations of a human soul is after an intelligent 
First Cause ; and the most universal dictate of con- 
science is, that this First Cause ought to be obeyed. 
Hence every nation, how rude soever it be, has its gods, 
and its religious services. But such a notion of the 
Deity is cold and inoperative when compared with that 
which may be derived from an intelligent observation 
of the laws of nature, physical and moral, which we see 
pervading the universe around us. In every moral law 
which has been written on the page of this world's his- 
tory, we discover a new lineament of the character of 
the Deity. Every moral attribute of God which we 
discover imposes upon us a now obligation, and pre- 
sents an additional motive why wo sliould ^^^'" '^'•d 

11* 



126 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

serve him. Hence we see that the knowledge of God, 
derived from the study of nature, is adapted to add 
greatly to the impulsive power of conscience. 

We see, then, how large a field of moral knowledge 
is spread open before us, if we only in a suitable man- 
ner apply our understandings to the works of God 
around us. He has arranged all things for the pur- 
pose of teaching us these lessons, and he has created 
our intellectual and moral nature expressly for the 
purpose of learning them. If, then, we do not use the 
powers which he has given us for the purpose for 
which he has given them, he holds us responsible for 
the result. Thus said the prophet : " Because they 
regard not the works of the Lord, neither consider the 
operation of his hands, therefore he shall destroy them, 
and not build them up.'-' Thus the Scriptures else- 
where declare all men to be responsible for the correct 
use of all the knowledge of duty which God had 
set before them. St. Paul, Rom. i. 19, 20, asserts, 
" Thot which may be known of God, is manifest in [or 
to] them, for God hath showed it to them : so that 
[or therefore] they are without excuse." Thus he also 
declares, " They that sin without law [that is, without 
a written revelation] shall perish without law." And 
thus we come to the general conclusion, that natural 
religion presents to all men a distinct and important 
means of knowing the character and will of God, and 
the obligations and duties of man ; and that for this 
knowledge all men are justly held responsible. 



SECTION III, 

DEFECTS OF THE SYSTEM OF NATUEAL EELIGflON. 

I. Without any argument on the subject, the insuf 
ficiency of natural religion as a means of luiman refer 
mation may be readily made manifest hy facts. 



DEFECTS IN NATURAL RELIGION. 127 

1. Tlie facts on whicli natural religion rests, and the 
intellectual poicer to derive the moral laws from the 
facts, have been in the possession of man from the be- 
ginning. Yet the whole history of man has exhibited 
a constant tendency to moral deterioration. Tliis is 
proved by the fact that every people, not enlightened 
by revelation, consider the earliest period of their his- 
tory as the period of their greatest moral purity. Then 
the gods and men held frequent intercourse ; this inter- 
coui-se, in consequence of the sins of men, has since 
been discontinued. That was the golden age ; the 
subsequent ages have been those of brass or of iron. 
The political history of men seems to teach the same 
lesson. In the early ages of national existence, sparse- 
ness of population, mutual fear, and universal poverty, 
have obliged men to lay the foundations of society in 
principles of justice, in order to secure a national exist- 
ence. But as soon as, under such a constitution, 
wealth had increased, population had become dense, 
and progress in arts and arms had rendered a nation 
fearless, the anti-social tendencies of vice have shown 
themselves too powerful for the moral forces by which 
they have been opposed. The bonds of society have 
been gradually dissolved, and a nation rich in the spoils 
of an hundred triumphs becomes the prey of some 
warlike and more virtuous horde, which takes possession 
of the spoil, merely to pursue the same career to a more 
speedy termination. 

2. The systems of religion of the heathen may be 
fairly considered as the legitimate result of all the 
moral forces which are in operation upon man, irre- 
spective of revelation. They show us, not what man 
might have learned by the proper use of his faculties iji 
the study of duty, but what he has always actually 
learned. Now, these systems, so far from having any 
tendency to make man better, have a manifest tendency 
to make him worse. Their gods were of the most prof- 
ligate and demoralizing character. Had natural religion 
succeeded in instilling into the minds of men true ideas 
of virtue and duty, their imaginations in forming con- 



128 TIIEOr.ET rCAL ETHICS. 

cipl'<>.is of doitios would have invested them willi far 
d Ifcivut attributes. 

3. l"he etliical systems of philosophers, it is true, not 
unfrequently presented sublime and pure conceptions 
of the Deity. But as instruments of moral reformation 
they were clearly inoperative. They were extremely- 
imperfect in everything which relates to our duties to 
man, and specially in everything which relates to our 
duty to God. They offered no sufficient motives to obe- 
dience ; they were established on subtle reasonings, 
which ceidd not be comprehended by the common peo- 
ple ; and they imposed no obligation upon their disci- 
ples to disseminate them among others. Hence they 
were never extensively known beyond the small circle 
of meditative students ; and by these they were consid- 
ered rather as matters of doubtful speculation than of 
practical benefit ; adapted rather to the cultivation of 
intellectual sicuten^ss than to the reformation of moral 
conduct. I think that any one, on reading the ethical 
disquisitions of thv3 ancients, must be struck with the 
fact that honest, simple, and ardent love of truth 
seems to have furnished no motive whatever to their 
investigations, and that its place was supplied by mere 
curiosity, or love of the new, the refined, and even the 
paradoxical. 

And hence, as miglit be expected, these ethical sys- 
tems made no converts from vice to virtue. From the 
era of which of the sys^^^^ms of ancient ethics can any 
reformation be dated ? Where are their effects recorded 
in the moival history of mm ? Facts have abundantly 
proved them to be utterly destitute of any power over 
Kho conscience, or of any p.'actical influence over the 
conduct. 

4. Nor can this failure be attributed to any want of 
intellectual cultivation. DmLig a large portion of the 
period of which we have spoken, the human mind had 
in many respects attained to as high a state of perfection 
as it has attahied at any subsequent age. Eloquence, 
poetry, rhetoric, nay, some of the severer sciences, 
?rere studied with a success which has never since 



DEFECTS IN NATURAL RELIGION. 12& 

been surpassed. This is universally confessed. Yet 
what progress did the classic ages make in morals ? 
And hence we think it must be admitted that the hu 
man mind, even under the most favorable circumstances, 
has ncA'er, when imassisted by revelation, deduced from 
the course of things around us any such principles of 
duty, or motives to the performance of it, as were suffi- 
cient to produce any decided effect upon the moral 
character of man. 

And hence, were we unable to assign the cause of this 
failure, yet the fact of the failure alone is sufficient to 
prove the necessity of some other means for arriving at 
a knowledge of duty than is afforded by the light of 
nature. 

II. But, secondly, the causes of this insufficiency 
may in many respects be pointed out. Among them 
are obviously the following : 

1. The mode of teaching natural religion is by expe- 
rience. We can form no opinion respecting the results 
of two opposite courses of action until they are both 
before us. Hence we cannot certainly know what the 
law is except by breaking it. Hence the habit of viola- 
tion must, in some sense, be formed before \ve know what 
the law is which we violate. Consequently, from the 
nature of the case, natural religion must always be 
much behind the age, and must always utter its precepts 
to men who are in some manner fixed in the habit of 
violating them. 

2. There are many moral laws in which the connec- 
tion between the transgression and the punishment can- 
not be shown, except in the more advanced periods of 
society. Such is the fact in respect to those laws which 
can be ascertained only by extended and minute observa- 
tion ; and, of course, a state of society in which knowl- 
edge is widely disseminated, and the experience of a 
large surface, and for a long period, is necessary to 
establish the fact of the connection between this par- 
ticular violation and this particular result. In tlie 
meantime, mankind will be suffering all the consequen- 
ces of vice j and the courses of conduct which are tho 



130 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

causes of misery will be interweaving themselves with 
the customs, habits, and interests of every class of 
society. Thus it too often happens that the knowledge 
is witii great difficulty acquired ; and when acquired, 
unfortunately comes too late to effect a remedy. 

3. A still more radical deficiency, however, in natural 
religion is, that it is from its nature incapable of teach- 
ing facts. It can teach only laws and tendencies. 
From observing what has been done, and how it has 
been done, it can infer that if the same thing were 
done again, and done in the same manner, it would 
be attended, in all places and at all times, if under the 
same conditions, with the same results. But as to a 
fact — that is, whether an action were actually performed 
at some other place or time, or whether it ever would 
be — natural religion can give us no information. Thus 
we know by experience that if a man fall from a preci- 
pice he will be destroyed ; but whether a man ever did 
so fall, much less whether A or B did fall from it, we 
can .never be informed by general principles. Thus, 
from the fact that we see guilt punished in this world, 
we infer from natural religion that it will at some time 
be punished m this world ; we infer, though not so cer- 
tainly, that it will also be punished in another world, 
if there be another world. But of the fact whether 
there be another world, natural religion can give us no 
certain information ; much less can it give us any in- 
formation respecting the question whether God has 
actually done anything to remedy tlie evils of sin, and 
vary those sequences which, without a remedy, experi- 
ence shows us to be inevitable. 

4. Hence natural religion must derive all its certain 
motives from the present world. Those from the other 
world are, so far as it is concerned, in their nature 
contingent and uncertain. And hence it loses all that 
power over man, which would be derived from the 
certain knowledge of our existence after death, of the 
nature of that existence, and of what God has done for 
our restoration to virtue and happiness. All these 
being facta ^ can never be known except by language. 



DEFECTS IN XATmAT. RELIGION. 131 

that is, by revelation. They must always remain in 
utter incertitude so hjng as we are left to the teach- 
ings of natural religion. 

We see, then, that natural religion is obliged to meet 
the impulsions of this world solely by motives from this 
world. Nay, more ; it is obliged to resist the power 
of the present, of passion strengthened and confirmed 
by habit, by considerations drawn from the distant, the 
future, and what may seem to be the uncertain. Hence 
its success must be at best but dubious, even when its 
power is exerted upon those least exposed to the allure- 
ments of vice. Wlio does not see that it is utterly vain 
to hope for success from such a source, in our attempts 
to reform men in general ? Every one who is at all 
acquainted with the history of man, must be convinced 
that nothing less powerful than the whole amount of 
motive derived from the knowledge of an endless ex- 
istence, has ever been found a sufficient antagonist 
force to the downward and headlong tendencies of 
appetite and passion. 

And hence, from the fact of the recorded failure of 
natural religion as a means of reformation, and from 
the defects inherent in its very nature as a means of 
moral improvement, there seems clearly to exist a great 
need of some additional moral force to correct the 
moral evils of our nature. It is surely not improbable 
that some additional means of instruction and improve- 
ment may have been granted to our race by a merciful 
Creator. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

RELATION BETWEEN NATURAL AND REVEALED RELIGION. 

If what we have said be true, the defects of natural 
religion would lead us to expect that some other means 
of moral mstruction would be afforded us. And, in- 
deed, this is the conclusion at which some of the wisest 
heathen philosophers arrived, froni a consideration of 
that utter ignorance of futurity in which they were 
of necessity plunged, by the most attentive study of 
natural religion. They felt convinced that the Deity 
would not have constructed a system of moral teaching 
which led to impervious darkness, unless he intended 
out of that very darkness, at some period or other, to 
manifest light. 

But still more : I think that an attentive observation 
of what natural religion teaches, and of its necessary 
and inherent defects, would afford us some grounds of 
expectation respecting the nature of that revelation 
which should be made. If we can discover the moral 
necessities of our race, and can also discover in what 
respects and for what reason the means thus far em- 
ployed have failed to relieve them, we may with cer- 
tainty predict some of the characteristics which must 
mark any system which should be devised to accom- 
plish a decided remedy. 

For example : 

1. It is granted that natural religion does teach us 
some unquestionable truths. Now, no truth can be 
inconsistent with itself. And hence it might be ex- 
pected that whenever natural and revealed religion 
treated upon -the same subjects they would teach in 
perfect harmony. The second instructor maj' teach 



NATURAL AND REVEALED RELIGION. 133 

more than tlio first ; but so far as tlicy give mstructioD 
on the same subjects, if both teach the trutli, they must 
both teach the same lesson. 

2 It is natural to expect that a revelation would 
give us much information upon the subject of duty, 
which could not be learned by the light of nature. 
Thus, it might be expected to make known more clearly 
to us than we could otherwise learn them, the obliga- 
tions by which we are bound to our fellow-men and 
to God, and also the manner in which those obligations 
are to be discharged. 

3. That it would present iis with motives to virtue, 
in addition to those made known by the light of nature 
We have seen that the motives of natural religion are 
derived from this world, and are in their nature insuf- 
ficient. We should expect that those in a revelation 
would be drawn from some other source. And still 
more, as natural religion may be considered to have 
exhausted the motives of this world, it is surely not 
unreasonble to expect that a revelation, leaving this 
world, would draw its motives principally from another, 
if it revealed to us the fact that another world existed. 

4. We should not expect that the Deity would em> 
ploy a second and additional means to accomplish what 
could be done by any modification of the means first 
employed. Hence, if a revelation were made to men, 
we might reasonably expect that it would make known 
to us such truths as could not, in the nature of the 
case, be commimicated by natural religion. 

These are, I think, just anticipations. At any rate, 
I think it must be admitted that if a system of reli- 
gion, purporting to be a revelation from Heaven, met 
all these expectations, its relations to natural religion 
not only would present no argument against its truth, 
but would create a strong a priori presumption in its 
favor. 

Now, these expectations are all fully realized in the 
system of religion contained in the Scriptures of the 
Old and New Testaments. 

1. The truths of revealed religion harmonize perfectly 
12 



134 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

with those of natural religion. The difference between 
them consists in this, — that the one teaches plainly, 
what the other teaches b}^ inference ; the one takes up 
the lesson where the other leaves it, supplies its defects, 
and adds to it other and vitally important precepts. 
Nay, so perfect is the harmony between them, that it 
may safely be asserted that not a single precept of nat- 
ural religion exists which is not also found in the Bible ; 
and still more, that the Bible is every day directing us 
to new lessons, taught us by nature, which but for its 
information would never have been discovered. Sg 
complete is this coincidence as to afford irrefragable 
proof that the Bible contains the moral laws of the 
universe ; and hence, that the Author of the universe 
— that is, of natural religion — is also the author of 
the Scriptures. 

2. The holy Scriptures, as has just been intimated, 
give us much information on questions of duty which 
could not be obtained by the light of nature. Under 
this remark may be classed the scriptural precepts re- 
specting the domestic relations ; respecting our duties 
to enemies, and to men in general ; and especially 
respecting our obligations to God, and the manner in 
which he may most acceptably be worshipped. 

3. The Scriptures present motives to the practice of 
virtue, additional, generically different from those of 
natural religion, and of infinitely greater power. 

1. The motives to virtue, from consequences in this 
world, are strengthened by a clearer development of 
the indissoluble connection between moral cause and 
effect, than is made known by natural religion. 

2. In addition to these motives, we are assured of 
our existence after death ; and eternal happiness and 
eternal misery are set forth as the desert of virtue and 
vice. 

3. The Scriptures reveal to us the Deity as assuming 
new relations to us, and devising a most merciful way 
for our redemption : by virtue of this new relation, 
establishing a new ground of moral obligation between 
the race of man and himself, and thus adding a power 



NATURAL AND REYEALLO RELIGION. 135 

to the impulsion of conscience, of wliicli natural reli- 
gion must, in the nature of the case, be destitute. 

4. It is manifest that much of the above knowledge 
which the Scriptures reveal is of the nature of fact, 
and therefore could not be communicated to us by 
experience, or in the, way of general laws, but must be 
made known by language, that is, by revelation. 

Thus the existence of a state of being after deatli, 
the doctrine of the resurrection, of a universal and 
impartial judgment, of an endless state of rewards and 
punishments, of a remedial dispensation, by which the 
connection between guilt and punishment may be con- 
ditionally severed ; the doctrine of the atonement, and 
the way in which a man may avail himself of the ben- 
efits of this remedial dispensation — all these are man- 
ifestly of great practical importance in a scheme of 
moral reformation ; and yet, all of them being of the 
nature of facts, they could be made known to man in 
no other way than by language. 

Now, as these seem clearly to be just anticipations re- 
specting any system which should be designed to supply 
the evident defects of natural religion, and as all these 
anticipations are realized in the system of rehgion con- 
tained in the Scriptures, each one of these anticipations 
thus realized furnishes a distinct a priori presumption 
in favor of the truth of revealed religion. We do not 
pretend that any, or that all of these considerations, 
prove the Scriptures to be a revelation from God. 
This proof is derived from other sources. What we 
would say is this : that from what we know of God's 
moral government by the light of nature, it is mani- 
festly probable that he would give us some additional 
instruction, and that that instruction would be, in va- 
rious important respects, analogous to that contained 
in the holy Scriptures. And we hence conclude that 
although it were granted — which, however, need not 
be granted — that, were there no antecedent facts in 
the case, it might seem unlikely that God would con- 
descend to make a special revelation of his will to men ; 
yet, when the- antecedent facts are properly considered^ 



136 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

this presumption, if it ever could ho maintained ^ is 
now precisely reversed, and that there now exists a fair 
presumption that such a revelation would actually/ be 
made. And hence we conclude that a revelation of the 
will of God by language is not, as many persons sup- 
pose, an event so unlikely that no., evidence can be con- 
ceived sufficiently strong to render it credible ; but that 
it is, on the contrary, an event which, from all that we 
know of God already, is essentially probable ; and that it 
is, to say the least of it, as fairly within the limits of 
evidence as any other event, and when proved, on the 
ordinary principles of evidence, is as much entitled to 
belief as any other event. And hence we conceive that 
when men demand, in support of the truth of r.evealed 
religion, evidence unlike to that which is demanded in 
support of any other event, — that is, evidence of which 
they themselves camiot define the nature, — -thej de- 
mand what is manifestly unreasonable, and proceed 
upon a presumption wholly at variance with all the 
known facts in the case. 



CHAPTEE IX. 

THE HOLY SCRIPTURES. 

This would seem to be the place in which to present 
the proof of the authenticity of the holy Scriptures as 
a revelation from God. This, however, being only a 
particular exemplification of the general laws of evi- 
dence, it belongs rather to the course of instruction 
in Intellectual Philosophy. It will therefore be here 
omitted. We shall, in the remainder of these remarks, 
take it for granted that the scriptures of the Old and 
New Testaments contain a revelation from God to 
man ; that these books contain all that God has been 
pleased to reveal unto us by language ; and, therefore, 
all which is recorded in language that is ultimate in 
morals, and that is, by its own authority, binding upon 
the conscience. Taking this for granted, we shall in 
the present chapter consider, first, what the Scriptures 
contain ; and, second, how we may ascertain our duty 
from the Scriptures. 



SECTION I. 

A VIEW OF THE HOLY SCEIPTLTIES. 

The holy Scriptures are contained in two separate 
volumes, entitled the Old and the New Testaments. 
These volumes have each a distinct object, and yet 
their objects are in perfect harmony ; and together 
they contain all that could be desired in a revelation to 
the human race. 

12* 



138 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

The design of the Old Testament mainly is to reveal 
a system of simple law ; to exhibit the results of such a 
system upon the human race ; and to direct the minds 
of men to the remedial dispensation which was to fol- 
low. 

It is here worthy of special remark, that the law of 
God was first made known to a rude and ignorant peo- 
ple. Its moral precepts were at first few and simple ; 
and after these had become known, others were from time 
to time added, as the hearers were able to bear them. 
Thus, in the beginning, many practices were not for- 
bidden which were afterwards disallowed. Various 
rites were at one time established, which at a later 
time were annulled. Thus, by repeated and increasing 
manifestations of moral truth, the nation was prepared 
for that fulness of time in which the whole will of God 
was revealed, not only to the Hebrews, but to them, 
and through them, to the whole human race. Thus 
" God who, at sundry times and in divers manners, 
spake in times past to the fathers by the prophets, hath 
m these last days spoken to us by his Son" from heaven. 
" And the times of this ignorance God winked at, but 
noiu commandeth all men everywhere to repent." Our 
Saviour particularly alludes to the progressive develop- 
ment of the moral law, from the time in which it was 
first made known by Moses. " Moses, for the hardness 
of your hearts, suffered you to put away your wives, but 
from the beginning it was not so. But J say unto you, 
whosoever shall put away his wife, except it be for 
fornication, and marry another, committeth adultery. 
It hath been said by them of old time. Thou shalt not 
forswear thyself, but shalt perform to the Lord thine 
oaths ; but /say to you, sivear not at all,^^ etc. 

In accomplisiaing this design, it contains several dis- 
tinct parts. 

I. An account of the creation of the world, of the 
creation and fall of man, and a brief history of the race 
of man until the deluge. The cause of this deluge is 
stated to be, the universal and intense wickedness of 
man. 



A VIEW OF THE HOLY SCRIPTURES. 139 

2. Tho account of the separation of a particular 
family, the germ of a nation designed to be the deposi- 
taries of the revealed will of God, and the history of 
this nation, from the call of Abraham until the return 
from the captivity in Babylon — a period of about fifteen 
hundred years. 

3. The system of laws which God gave to this nation. 
These laws may be comprehended under three classes : 

Moral laws, or those which arise from the immutable 
relations existing between God and man. 

Civil laws, or those enacted for the government of 
civil society ; adapted specially to the Jewish Theocracy, 
or that form of government in which God was specially 
recognized as King. 

Ceremonial laws. These were of two kinds : First, 
those which were intended to keep this nation separate 
from other nations ; and, second, those intended to 
prefigure events which were to occur under the second 
or new dispensation. 

4. Various events in their history, discourses of 
prophets and inspired teachers, prayers, odes of pious 
men ; all tending to illustrate what are the effects of a 
system of moral law upon human nature, even when 
placed under the most favorable circumstances ; and 
also to exhibit the effects of the religious principle 
upon the soul of man under every variety of time and 
condition. 

The result of all this series of moral means seems to 
be this : God, in various modes suited to their con- 
dition, made known his will to the whole human race. 
They all, with the exception of a single family, became 
so corrupt that he destroyed them by a general deluge. 
He then selected a single family, and gave them his 
written law, and, by peculiar enactments, secluded 
them from all other nations, that the experiment might 
be made under the most favorable circumstances. At 
the same time, the effects of natural religion were tried 
among the heathen nations that surrounded them. 
The result was, a clear demonstration that, under tlio 
conditions of being in wliich man was created, any 



140 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

reformation was hopeless, and that, unless some other 
conditions were revealed, the race would perish by its 
own vicious and anti-social tendencies, and enter the 
other world to reap the reward of its guilt forever. 
While this is said to be the main design of the Old 
Testament, it is not to be understood that this is its 
whole design. It was intended to be introductory to 
the new dispensation, and also to teach those to whom 
it was addressed the way of salvation. Hence allu- 
sions to the principal events in the new dispensation 
are everywhere to be met with. Hence, also, assuran- 
ces of pardon are made to the penit'ent, and God is 
represented as ready to forgive ; though the procuring 
cause of our pardon is not explicitly stated, but only 
alluded to in terms which could not be fully understood 
until the remedial dispensation was accomplished. 

The design of the New Testam^ent is to reveal to the 
race of man the new conditions of being under which 
it is placed by virtue of a remedial dispensation. 

In pursuance of this design, the New Testament con- 
tains, 

1. A narrative of the life and death, resurrection and 
ascension, the acts and conversations of Jesus of Naza- 
reth, — a Being in whom the divine and human natures 
were mysteriously united, — who appeared on earth to 
teach us whatever was necessary to be known of our 
relations to God, and by his obedience to the law, and 
voluntary suiferings and death, to remove the obstacles 
to our pardon which, under the former dispensation, 
existed in consequence of the holiness of God. 

2. A brief narrative of the facts relating to the 
progress of the Christian religion, for several years after 
the ascension of Jesus of Nazareth. 

3. The instructions which his immediate followers or 
apostles, by divine inspiration, gave to the men of their 
own time, and which were rendered necessary in conse- 
quence of their ignorance of the principles of religion, 
or the weakness of their virtue and tlie imperfection of 
their faith. 

The whole of this volume, taken together, teaches us 



HOW TO LEARX OUR DUTY FROM THE SCRIPTURES. 141 

tlie precepts, the sanctions, and the rewards of the law 
of God, with as great distinctness as wo could desire ; 
and also a way of salvation, on different grounds from 
that revealed both by natural religion and by the Old 
Testament ; a way depending for merit upon the doings 
and sufferings of another, but yet available to us on no 
other conditions than those of supreme, strenuous, and 
universal moral effort after perfect purity of thought 
and word and action. 

This, being a remedial dispensation, is in its nature 
final. We have no reason to expect any other ; nay, 
the idea of another would be at variance with the 
belief of the truth of this. And hence the Scriptures 
of the Old and New Testaments contain all that God has 
revealed to us by language respecting his will. What 
is contained here alone is binding upon the conscience. 
Or, in the words of Chillingworth, "The Bible — the 
Bible, the religiox of Protestaxts." 



SECTION II. 

TSa WHAT MAXXEE AEE WE TO ASCEETAIN OUE DUTY FEOM THE 
HOLY SCEIPTUEES ? 

Taking it for granted that the Bible contains a reve- 
lation of the will of God. such as is stated in the pre- 
ceding section, it will still be of importance for us to de- 
cide how we may ascertain from the study of it what God 
really requires of us. Much of it is m'*:-e history, con- 
taining an unvarnished narration of the actions of good 
and of bad men. Much of it has reference to a less 
enlightened age, and to a particular people, set apart 
from other people for a special and peculiar purpose. 
Much of it consists of exhortations and reproofs addressed 
to this people in reference to the laws then existing, 
but which have been since abrogated. Now, amidst 
this variety of instructions, given to men at different 
times, and of different nations, it is desirable that the 



142 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

principles be settled by which we may learn what por- 
tion of this mass of instruction is binding upon the 
conscience at the present moment. My object in the 
following section is to ascertain, as far as possible, the 
principles by which we are to be guided in such an 
inquiry. 

When a revelation is made to us by language, it is 
taken for granted that whatever is our duty will be 
signified to us by a command ; and hence what is not 
commanded, is not to be considered by us as obligatory. 
Did we not establish this limitation, everything recorded 
— as, for instance, all the actions both of good and of bad 
men — might be regarded as authority ; and thus a rev- 
elation, given for the purpose of teaching us our duty, 
might be used as an instrument to confound all dis- 
tinction between right and wrong. 

The ground of moral obligation, as derived from a 
revelation, must therefore be a command of God. 

Now, a command seems to involve three ideas : 

1. That an act be designated. This may be by the 
designation of the act itself, as for instance, giving bread 
to the hungry ; or else by the designation of a temper 
of mind, as that of universal love, under which the above 
act, and various other acts, are clearly comprehended. 

2. That it be somehow signified to be the will of God 
that this act he performed. Without this intimation, every 
act that is described, or even held up for our reproba- 
tion, might be quoted as obligatory. 

3. That it be signified that ive are included within the 
number of those to whom the command is addressed. 
Otherwise all the commandments t' the patriarchs and 
prophets, whether ceremonial, symbolical, or individual, 
would be binding upon every one who might read them. 
And hence, in general, whosoever urges upon us any 
duty as the command of God revealed in the Bible, must 
show that God has somewhere commanded that action 
to be done, and that he has commanded us to do it. 

This principle will exclude, 

1. Everything which is merely history. Much of the 
Bible contains a mere narrative of facts. For the truth 



HOW TO LEAEN OUR DUTY FROM THE SCRIPTUKES 1.43 

of this narrative the veracity of the Deity is pledged. 
We may derive from tlie account of God's dealings 
lessons of instruction to guide ns in particular cases, 
and from the evil conduct of men, matter of warning. 
But the mere fact that anything has been done and re 
corded in the Scripture, by no means places us undej 
obligation to do it. 

2. It excludes from being obligatory upon all what 
has been commanded, but which can be shown to have 
been intended only for individuals or for nations, and 
not for the ivhole human race. Thus, many commands 
are recorded in the Scriptures as having been given to 
individuals. Such was the command to Abraham, to 
offer U23 his son ; to Moses, to stand before Pharaoh ; to 
Samuel, to anoint Saul and David ; aild a thousand 
others. Here, evidently, the Divine direction was 
exclusively intended for the individual to whom it was 
given. No one can pretend that he is commanded to 
offer np his son because Abraham was so commanded. 

Thus, also, many of the commands of God in the Old 
Testament were addressed to nations. Such were the 
directions to the Israelites to take possession of Canaan ; 
to make war upon the surrounding nations ; to keep 
the ceremonial law ; and so of various other instances. 
Now, of such precepts it is to be observed, 1. They are 
to be obeyed only at the time and in the manner in which 
they were commanded. Thus the Jews at present 
would have no right, in virtue of the original command, 
to expel the Mahometans from Palestine, though the 
command to Joshua was a sufiicient warrant for expel- 
ling the Canaanites at the time in which it was given. 
2. They are of force only to .those to whom they wert 
given. Thus, supposing the ceremonial law was not 
abolished ; as it was given specially to Jews, and to no 
one else, it would bind no one but Jews now. Suppos- 
ing it to be abolished, it of course now binds no one. 
For if, when in force, it was obligatory on no one but the 
Tews, and was nothing to any one else, when it is abol- 
ished as to them, it is nothing to any one. Such i? 
the teaching of St. Paul on this subject. 



1 14 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

3. It would exclude whatever was done by inspired 
men, if it was done without the addition of being some- 
how commanded. Thus, the New Testament was man- 
ifestly intended for the whole human race, and at all 
times ; and it was written by men who were inspired by 
God to teach us his will. But still, their example is 
not binding />er se ; that is, we are not under obligation 
to perform an act simply because they have dune it. 
Thus, Paul and the other apostles kept the Feast of 
Pentecost ; but this imposes no such obligation upon 
us. Paul circumcised Timothy ; but this imposes no 
obligation upon us to do likewise : for upon another 
occasion he did not circumcise Titus. The examples 
of inspired men in the New Testament would, unless 
exception be made, prove the laivfulness of an act; 
but it could by no means establish its ohligatoriness. 

This principle will include as obligatory — 

1. Whatever has been enjoined as the will of God 
upon man as man, in distinction from what has been 
enjoined upon men as individuals or as nations. The 
command may be given us, 1. By God himself, as when 
he proclaimed his law from Mount Sinai ; or, 2. By the 
Mediator Christ Jesus ; or, 3. By any persons divinely 
commissioned to instruct us in the will of God; as 
prophets, apostles, or evangelists. This includes, as 
obligatory on the conscience, simply what is proved to 
be intended, according to the established principles of 
interpretation. But it by no, means includes anything 
which man may infer from what is thus intended. 
Any idea which man adds to the idea given in the 
Scriptures, is the idea of man, and has no more obliga- 
tion on the conscience of his fellow-men than any other 
idea of man. 

But, it may be asked, granting that nothing but a 
divine command is obligatory on the conscience, yet, as 
general and particular commandments in the Scriptures 
are frequently, in a considerable degree, blended to- 
gether, how may we learn to distinguish that part 
wliich is obligatory upon us from that which is in its 
nature local and peculiar ? In attempting to answer 
this question, I would suggest — 



HOW TO LEARN OUR DUTY FROM THE SCRIPTURES. 145 

That the distinction of nations or individLials is no- 
where adverted to in the New Testament. Its precepts 
are clearly intended for men of all ages and nations ; 
and hence they never involve anything either local or 
peculiar, but are universally binding upon all. The 
question must therefore refer to the Old Testament. 

If we confine ourselves, then, to the Old Testament, 
this question may be decided on the following princijjles : 

1. In by far the greater number of cases, we shall be 
able to decide by reference to the nature of the Jewish 
commonwealth — a temporary or preparatory dispensa- 
tion, which was to cease when that to which it was pre- 
paratory had appeared. 

2. The New Testament being thus intended for the 
whole human race, and being a final revelation of the 
will of God to man, may be supposed to contain all the 
moral precepts, both of natural religion and of the Old 
Testament, together with whatever else it was impor- 
tant to our salvation that we should kuow. If, then, a 
revelation has been made in the Old Testament which 
is repeated in the New Testament, we shall be safe in 
making the later revelation the criterion by which we 
shall judge respecting the precepts of the earlier. That 
is to say, no precept of the Old Testament, which is not 
either given to man as man, or which is not either 
repeated, or its obligations acknowledged under the 
new dispensation, is binding upon us at the present 
day. This principle is, I think, avowed in substance 
by the Apostle Paul, in various places in his epistles. 
While he repeatedly urges the moral precepts of the 
Old Testament as of unchanging obligation, he speaks 
of everything else, so far as moral obligation is con- 
cerned, as utterly annihilated. 

Such, then, are the means afforded to us by our 
Creator for acquiring a knowledge of our duty. Thoy 
are, first, natural religion ; second, the Old Testament, 
or a dispensation of law ; third, the gospel, a remedial 
dispensation, or a dispensation of grace. 

Tlie relation existing between our moral power and 
13 



146 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

these means of moral cultivation may, 1 suppose, be 
stated somewhat as follows : 

1. By conscience we attain a feeling of moral obli- 
gation towards the various beings to whom we are re- 
lated. The elements of this feeling are developed as 
soon as we come to the knowledge of the existence and 
attributes of those beings, and the relation in which we 
stand to them. Such elements are, the feeling of obli- 
gation of reciprocity to man, and of universal love and 
obedience to our Creator. 

2. In order to illustrate the relations in which we 
stand to other beings, created and uncreated, as well as 
to teach us his character and his will concerning us, 
God has given us other means of instruction. 

1. He has so arranged and governed all the events 
of this world as to illustrate his character by his deal- 
ings with men ; and he has given us powers, by which 
we may, if we will, acquire the knowledge thus set be- 
fore us. The fact that we may acquire this knowledge 
of the will of God, and that we are so constituted as to' 
feel that we ought to do the will of God, renders us 
responsible for obedience to all the light which we may 
acquire. 

2. In the utter failure of this mode of instruction to 
reclaim men, God has seen fit to reveal his will to us 
by language. Here the truth is spread before us, with- 
out the necessity of induction from a long and previous 
train of reasoning. This knowledge of the will of God, 
thus obtained, renders man responsible for the addi- 
tional light thus communicated. 

In the same manner, when this means failed to pro- 
duce any important moral result, a revelation has been 
made, instructing us still further concerning our duties 
to God, his character and will ; and, above all, inform- 
ing us of a new relation in which the Deity stands to 
us, and of those new conditions of being under which 
we are placed. And we are, in consequence of our 
moral constitution, rendered responsible for a conduct 
corresponding to all this additional moral light, and 
consequent moral obligation. 



HOW TO LEARN OUR DUTY FROM THE SCRIPTURES. 147 

And still more : in pity to our blindness and weak- 
ness, God has invited ns to ask hinij with cliildlike 
confidence, for all the aid that we need ; and he has 
assured us that, by his Spirit, he will unfold to us the 
knowledge of our duty, and strengthen us to perform 
it. Thus, weak, blind, and erring though we are, we 
may freely come to the fountain of all wisdom and 
holiness, and derive all that will enable us to serve him 
acceptably here, and prepare us to dwell with him in 
glory hereafter. 

Now, if it be remembered that we are under obliga- 
tions greater than we can estimate to obey the will of 
God, by what manner soever signified, and that we are 
under obligation, therefore, to obey him, if he had given 
us no other intimation of his will than merely the mo- 
nition of conscience unassisted by natural or revealed 
religion, how greatly must that ol3ligation be increased 
when these additional means of information are taken 
into the account ! And if the guilt of our disobedi- 
ence be in proportion to the knowledge of our duty, 
and if that knowledge of our duty be so great that we 
cannot readily conceive how, consistently with the con- 
ditions of our being, it could have been greater, we 
may judge how utterly inexcusable must be every one 
of our transgressions. Such does the Bible represent 
to be the actual condition of man ; and hence it every- 
where treats him as under a just and awful condem- 
nation — a condemnation from which there is no hope 
of escape but by means of the special provisions of a 
remedial dispensation. 

It belongs to theology to treat of the nature of this 
remedial dispensation. We shall, therefore, attempt 
no exhibition either of its character or its provisions 
beyond a simple passing remark, to show its connections 
with our present subject. 

The laiu of God, as revealed in the Scriptures, rep- 
resents our eternal happiness as attainable upon the 
simple ground of perfect obedience, and perfect obedi- 
ence upon the principles already explained. But this, 
in our present sta^«, is manifestly unattainable. A 



U8 THEORETICAL ETHICS. 

single sin, both on the ground of its violation of tho 
conditions on which onr future happiness was sus- 
pended, as well as by the effects which it produces 
upon our whole subsequent moral character and our 
capacity for virtue, renders our loss of happiness inevi- 
table. Even after reformation, our moral attainment 
must fall short of the requirements of the law of God, 
and thus present no claim to the Divine favor. For 
this reason our salvation is made to depend upon the 
obedience and merits of another. But we are entitled 
to hope for salvation upon the ground of the merit of 
Christ, solely upon the condition of yielding ourselves 
up in entire obedience to the whole law of God. " He 
that saith, I know him, and keepeth not his command- 
ments, is a liar, and the truth is not in him" (John 
ii. 4). And hence a knowledge of the law of God is of just 
as great importance to us under a remedial dispensa- 
tion as under a dispensation of law ; not on the ground 
that we are to be saved by keeping it without sin, but 
on the ground that, unless the will of God be the habit- 
ually controlling motive of all our conduct, we are 
destitute of the elements of that character to which 
the blessings of the remedial dispensation are promised. 
Hence, under the one dispensation, as well as under 
tlie other, though on different grounds, the knowledge 
of the law of God is necessary to our happiness both 
here and hereafter. 



BOOK II. 

PRACIICAL ETHICS. 



PRACTICAL ETHICS, 



I 



In the preceding pages it has been my design to 
illustrate the moral constitution of man, and to point 
out the sources from which that truth emanates which 
is addressed to his moral constitution. My design in 
the present book is to classify and explain some of the 
principal moral laws under which God has placed us in 
our present state. We shall derive these laws from 
natural or from revealed religion, or from both, as may 
be most convenient for our purpose. 

The Scriptures declare that the whole moral law is 
contained in the single word. Love. 

The beings to whom man is related in his present 
state are, so far as this subject is concerned, God his 
Creator, and man his fellow-creature. Hence, the moral 
obligations of men are of two kinds : first. Love to God, 
or Piety ; second, Love to Man, or Morality. 

This book will therefore be divided into two parts, in 
which those two subjects will be treated of in their 
order. 



PART I. 

OF LOVE TO GOD, OR PIETf. 

CHAPTEE I. 

THE GENERAL OBLIGATION TO SUPREME LOVE TO GOD. 

The scriptural precept on tliis subject may be found 
recorded in various passages. It is in these words : 
" Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, 
and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with 
all thy strength." See Matthew xxii. 37 ; Mark xii. 30 ; 
Luke X. 27. 

Li order to illustrate this precept, I shall consider, 
firsts the relation which exists between us and the 
Deity ; secondly^ the rights and obligations which that 
relation imposes ; and, tliirdly^ the facts in our constitu- 
tion which show that these are manifestly the law of 
our being. 

I. The relation which exists between God and us. 

1. He is our Creator and Preserver. A few years 
since, and we had no existence. Within a few more 
years, and this whole system of which we form a part 
had no existence. Over our own existence neither we 
nor any created thing has any more than the semblance 
of power. We are upheld in being by the continued 
act of Omnipotence. Not only we ourselves, but every 
faculty which we and which all creatures enjoy, was 
created, and is continually upheld, by the same Crea- 
tor. Nor this alone ; all the circumstances by which wo 
are surrounded, and all the modifications of extaroaJ 



152 PRACTiOAL ETHICS. 

nature, of what sort soever they may be, whether phys- 
ical, intellectual, social, or moral,. are equally created 
and sustained by God, and derive their powers to render 
us happy or wise or good purely from his provident 
care, and from the exertion of his omnipotent and 
omnipresent goodness. The relation therefore existing 
between the Deity and us is that of dependence, more 
profound, universal, and absolute, than we are able 
adequately to comprehend, upon a Being absolutely and 
essentially independent, omniscient, omnipotent, and all- 
providing. 

2. The Deity has revealed himself to us as a Being 
in whom are united, by the necessity of his existence, 
every perfection of which the human mind can conceive, 
and every perfection that can possibly exist, how much 
•soever they may transcend the powers of our conception. 
To him belong, from the necessity of his being, al- 
mighty power, omniscient wisdom, unchanging veracity, 
inflexible justice, transcendent purity, illimitable benev- 
olence, and universal love. Not only does he treasure 
up within himself all that can be conceived of every 
perfection, but he is the exhaustless fountain from 
which emanates all of these attributes that exists 
throughout this wide creation. As every object that we 
see in nature is seen only by the reflection of the rays 
of the sun, so every exhibition of goodness which we 
behold in creatures is nothing but the reflection of 
the perfections of Him who is the Father of lights, with 
whom is neither variableness nor the shadow of a turn- 
ing. The relation, therefore, in this respect which 
exists between us and the Creator, is that which exists 
between beings whom he has formed to admire and love 
all these perfections, and the uncreated Being in whom 
they all exist, in a degree infinitely surpassing all that 
it is in our power to conceive. 

3. This creative power, and this incomprehensible 
wisdom, have been exerted, in obedience to all tliese 
transcendent moral perfections, for the production of 
our best good, our highest temporal and eternal happi- 
ness ; nay, they have been as fully exerted in behalf of 



OBLIGATION TO SCTPREME LOVE TO GOD. 153 

our race as thongli there were no other race in exist- 
ence ; and in behalf of each one of iis as thongh each 
individnal were the only being created within this 
illimitable universe. And upon all this exertion of 
goodness towards us we have not the semblance of a 
claim ; for God was under no manner of obligation to 
create us, much less to create us capable of that happi- 
ness which we enjoy. The relation, therefore, in this 
respect existing between us and the Deity, is that 
between beings who, without any claim whatever, are 
at every moment receiving the results of the exercise 
of every conceivable perfection, and a Being who is 
moved thus to conduct towards them by nothing but 
his own independent goodness. 

II. From these relations existing between a'eatures 
and the Creator there arise various rights of the Crea 
tor, and various ohligations of the creature. 

Every one who will reflect upon this subject must be 
convinced that, inasmuch as these relations are en- 
tirely beyond the range of human analogies, and also 
manifestly beyond the grasp of finite conception, they 
must involve obligations in their very nature more 
profound and universal than we can adequately com- 
prehend ; and that, therefore, no conception of ours can 
possibly transcend their solemnity and awfulness. A3 
in our present state we are so little able to understand 
them, or even to inquire after them, we see the need 
of instruction concerning them from Him who alone of 
all beings that exist can fathom their depth or measure 
their immensity. Let us, therefore, inquire. What are 
the claims which, in his revealed Word, God asserts 
over us, and what are the obligations which in his sight 
bind us to him ? 

1. By virtue of his relation to us as Creator^ ho 
asserts over us the right of unlimited proprietorship. 
Inasmuch as we are his creatures, we are his in the 
highest and most extensive sense in which we can con- 
ceive of the idea of possession. Neither we ourselves, 
nor anything which we seem to possess, are our own. 
Even our wills are not our own ; but hQ claims that we 



154 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

shall only will precisely what lie wills. Our faculties, 
of "W'hat sort soever, are not our own. He claims that 
from the commencement of our existence they be used 
precisely in the manner, for the purposes, and within the 
limits that he shall direct. Not only does Glod assert 
this right m his word, but we find that he actually 
exercises it. Without regard to what we will, he does 
his pleasure in the armies of heaven and among the 
inhabitants of the earth. He gives or takes from us 
health, possessions, friends, faculties, life ; and he giveth 
not account of any of his matters; that is, he manifestly 
acts upon the principle that he is the Sovereign and 
rightful Proprietor both of ourselves and of all that we 
seem to ourselves to possess. 

2. And thus, on the other hand, God asserts that we 
are all under obligations, greater and more solemn than 
we can possibly conceive, to render to him that entire 
obedience and submission which his essential right 
over us renders manifestly his due. 

This right, and the correspondent obligation, have 
respect to two classes of duties. The first class is that 
which respects simply our relations to him, and which 
would be obligatory upon us, although each one of us 
were the only created being in the universe. The 
second class of duties respects our fellow-creatures. 
If we could suppose moral creatures to exist without a 
Creator, there would yet be duties which, from their 
constitution as moral creatures, they would owe to each 
otljer. But, inasmuch as every creature is the creature 
of God, he has made the duties which they owe to 
each other a part of their duty to him. That is to say, 
he requires us, who are his creatures, and who are un- 
der universal obligations to him, to treat our fellow- 
creatures, who are also his creatures, and under his 
protection, in such a manner as he shall direct. He is 
the Father of us all, and he requires that every one of 
his children conduct himself towards others, who are 
also his children, as he shall appoint. And hence the 
duties which are required of us to our fellow-creatures 
are required of us under a twofold obligation ; first, 



OBLIGATION TO SUPP.EME LOVE TO GOD. 155 

that arising from our relation to God, and, secondly, 
that arising from our relation to our fellows. And 
hence there is not a single act which we are under 
obligation to perform which we are not also under 
obligation to perform from the principle of obedience 
to our Creator. Thus the obligation to act reUgiouslf/, 
or piously, extends to the minutest action of our lives ; 
and no action of any sort whatever can be, in the full 
acceptation of the term, virtuous, — that is, be entitled 
to the praise of God, — which does not involve in its 
motives the temper of filial obedience to the Deity. 
And still more, as this obligation is infinitely superior 
to any other that can be conceived, an action performed 
from the conviction of any other obligation, if this 
obligation be excluded, fails in vastly the most impor- 
tant respect ; and must, by the whole amount of this 
deficiency, expose us to the condemnation of the law 
of God, whatever that condemnation may be. 

And, once more : we are taught in the Scriptures 
that tlie relation in which we stand to the Deity places 
us under such obligations that, while our whole and 
uninterrupted service is thus due to God, we can, after 
it is all performed, in no manner bring him under any 
obligation to us. This I suppose to be the meaning in- 
tended by our Saviour in the parable, Luke xvii. 7-10 : 
" But which of you, having a servant ploughing or feed- 
ing cattle, will say imto him by-and-by, when he is 
come from the field. Go and sit down to meat? and 
will not rather say unto him, Make ready wherewith 1 
may sup, and gird thyself and serve me, until I have 
eaten and drunken ; and afterward thou shalt eat and 
drink ? Doth he thank that servant because he hath 
done the things that luere commanded him? I suppose 
not. So likewise ye, when ye have done all the things 
which are commanded you, say, We are unprofitable 
servants ; we have done that which was our duty to do." 
That is, the obligation of the servant is not fuKilled by 
doing any one thing, but only by occiipijing his ivhole 
time and exerting his whole power to its full extent 
in doiiio: wbatcver is commanded him. And wiion all 



156 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

tliis IS done, such is tlio relation between the parties, 
that he has placed the Master, God, under no ohliga- 
tion ; he has only discharged a duty ; he has merely 
paid a debt. Nor is it possible, from the nature of the 
relation, that he should ever do anything more. Such, 
I think, every one will acknowledge, upon reflection, to 
be the relation existing between us and our Creator. 

And hence we see that a failure in duty to God on 
the part of the creature must be remediless. At every 
moment he is under obligation to the full amount of 
his ability, and when this whole amount of obligation 
is discharged, he has then simply fulfilled his duty. 
Hence no act can have any retrospective effect ; that 
is, it cannot supply the deficiencies of any other act. 
This would be the case even if his moral powers were 
not injured by sin. But if we add this other element, 
and reflect that by sin our moral powers are perma- 
nently injured, — that is, our capacity for vii'tue is di- 
minished according to the laws of our constitution, — 
by how much more is it evident that, under a system 
of mere law, a single failure in our duty to God must 
be of necessity fatal ! What shall we then say of a 
life of which every act is, when strictly considered, by 
confession a moral failure ? 

2. God has revealed himself to us as a being en- 
dowed with every attribute of natural and moral ex- 
cellence ; and in virtue of the relation which on this 
account he sustains to us, a new form of obligation is 
imposed upon us. 

We are evidently formed to love whatever is beauti- 
ful, and to admire whatever is great in power or excel- 
lent in wisdom. This is too evident to need illustration. 
But we are so made as to love and admire still more 
the cause from wliich all these emanate. We admire 
the tragedies of Shakspeare, and the epic of Milton ; 
but how much more the minds in which these works 
were conceived, and by which they were executed! 
Now, all that we see in creation, whether of beauty or 
loveliness or grandeur, is the work of the Creator. It 
all existed in his conceptions before it existed in fact. 



OBLIGATIOX TO SUrKE^IE LOVE TO GOD. 157 

Nor this alone. The powers hy v\'iiich we percoive, 
and are affected by, these exhibitions, all proceed from 
him, and both the external qualities and the internal 
susceptibilities are upheld by his all-sustaining energy. 
Thus every feeling of love or of admiration which 
we exercise, involves, from the constitution of our 
nature, the obligation to exercise these feelings in a 
higher degree towards Him who is the author of all. 
But as He is the author not only of whatever is lovely 
or glorious that we see, but of all that we have ever 
seen ; not only of all that ice have ever seen, but of 
all that has ever existed ; not only of all that has ever 
existed, but of all that ever can exist ; by how much 
are we under obligation to love Him better than all 
tilings else that we know ! and by how much more 
than any mdividual form of excellence with which it 
is possible for us ever to become acquainted ! 

Agam, God reveals himself to us as the possessor of 
every moral attribute in infinite perfection. In him 
are imited, by the necessity of his nature, absolute and 
infinite justice, holiness, mercy, compassion, goodness, 
and truth. Now, we are manifestly formed to love 
and admire actions emanating from such attributes 
as they are exhibited on earth, and specially the moral 
characters of those by whom such actions are per- 
formed. TTe are not only formed to do this, but we are 
specialhj formed to do it. We are created with an im- 
pulsion to exercise these affections, and we are con- 
scious that this is the highest impulsion of our nature. 
Now, whatever we see of moral excellence on earth 
springs from him as its first and original cause. He 
created the circumstances under which it exists, and 
created, with all its powers, the being by whom it is 
displayed. Nor this alone. He possesses, essentially, 
and in an infinite degree, and without the possibility 
of imperfection, every moral attribute. If, then, the 
highest impulsion of our nature teaches us to love and 
venerate these attributes, even as they are displayed in 
ilieir imperfection on earth, by how much more are we 
under obligation to love these attributes as they aro 
14 



158 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

possessed by our Father who is in heaven ! If ^k single 
act of justice deserves our veneration, how much more 
should we venerate that justice which has governed 
this universe without the shadow of a spot from eter- 
nity ! If a single act of purity deserves our regard, 
with what awe should we adore the holiness of Him in 
wliose sight the heavens are unclean ! If a single act 
of benevolence deserve our love, with what affection 
should we bow before Him who from eternity has been 
pouring abroad a ceaseless flood of blessedness, over 
the boundless universe by which Pie is surrounded ! 

And yet more, I think it is manifest that we are so 
constituted as to be under obligations to love such at- 
tributes as I have mentioned, entirely aside from the 
consideration of their connection with ourselves. We 
admire justice and benevolence in men who existed 
ages ago, and in countries with which we have no in- 
terests in common. And thus these obligations to love 
and adore these attributes in the Deity would exist in 
full force, irrespective of the fact of our receiving any 
benefit from them. And our Creator. might, and justly 
would, require of us all these affections of which I 
have spoken, did these moral attributes exist in some 
other being besides himself. The obligation is sus- 
tained upon the simple consideration, that we are 
constituted such moral beings as we are, and that an- 
other Being exists, endowed with attributes in this 
particular manner corresponding to our moral consti- 
tution. By how much is this obligation increased by 
the consideration that He in whom these attributes 
exist stands to us in the relation of Creator ! 

3. As, by the constitution of our moral nature, we 
are under obligation to love whatever is morally excel- 
lent, irrespective of any benefit which we may derive 
from it ourselves ; so when this maral excellence is 
intentionally the source of happiness to us, we are 
under the additional obligation to gratitude^ or a desire 
to do something Avhich shall please Him from whom our 
happiness has proceeded. This obligation is so mani- 
festly recognized as one of the instinctive im^uilses of 



OBLIGATION TO SUPREME LOVE TO GOD. 159 

our nature, that wliilst wo merely esteem liim who acts 
in obedience to it, the neglect of it, without the exhibi- 
tion of the positiYcly opposite temper, is always met by 
the feeling of intense moral reprobation. 

Now, since whatever of favor we receive from others 
is derived from them merely as second causes, it all 
originates essentially from the first and all-pervading 
Cause. Whatever gratitude we feel, therefore, towards 
creatures is in the highest possible sense due to God, 
from whom it all really emanates. 

But how small is that portion of the happiness which 
we enjoy which is conferred by the favo?' of our fellows ! 
Immeasurably the greater part is the direct gift of our 
Creator. The obligation to gratitude is in proportion 
to the amount of benefits conferred and the disinterest- 
edness of the goodness from which they have proceeded. 
By these elements let us estimate the amount of obli- 
gation of gratitude to God. 

As the Deity is essentially independent of all his 
creatures, and as he has created us from nothing, and 
as he has created, also, all the circumstances under 
which we exist, he can be under no obligation to us, 
nor can our relation to him ever be of any other sort 
than that of recipients of favor, which we can by no 
possibility merit or repay. 

Under such circumstances, a sensation of happiness 
for a single moment, even if it terminated with that sin- 
gle moment, would be a cause for gratitude so long as 
it could be remembered. How much more if this form 
of happiness continued throughout our whole extent of 
being ! The enjoyment of one form of happiness, say 
of that derived from a single sense, would deserve our 
gratitude ; how much more that derived from all our 
senses, and specially tliat derived from the combination 
of them all ! The enjoyment of ever so transient .a 
sensation of intellectual happiness would deserve our 
gratitude ; how much more that of a permanent consti- 
tution, which was a source of perpetual intellectual 
happiness, and specially a constitution involving a great 
variety of forms of intellectual happiness ! Thus, also, 



160 ' , PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

a single emotion of moral happiness wonld deserve Ouf 
gratitude ; how much more a constitution formed for 
perpetual moral happiness ! And yet more, if these 
forms of happiness, taken singly, would be each a cause 
of perpetual and increasing gratitude, how much more 
a constitution by wdiich the very relations which they 
sustain to eacli other become a source of additional and 
increased happiness ! Add to this, that the external 
world is itself adjusted to all these powers and suscep 
tibilities of man, and each adjustment is manifestly 
intended for our best good. And add to this, that such 
are the conditions of being under w^hich we are placed, 
that if we only use these powers according to the will 
of God, and to the nature which he has given us, — that 
is, in such a way as to promote our highest happiness 
here, — we shall be advanced to a state of happiness more 
excellent and glorious than any of which we can con- 
ceive; and we shall be fixed in it unchangeably and 
forever. Now, if a single act of disinterested goodness 
aiid undeserved favor deserve our gratitude forever, 
what limits can be set to the intensity of that grateful 
adoration which should throughout our whole being 
pervade our bosoms towards Him from whom every 
blessing is perpetually flov\^ing in so exhaustless a flood 
of unfathomable goodness ? 

Such, then, are the obligations to love and gratitude 
which, in addition to that of obedience, we owe to our 
Creator. But it deserves to be remarked that these 
forms of obligation reciprocally involve each other. 
For if we possess that temper of entire obedience which 
springs from a recognition of the universal right of the 
Creator over us, we shall dedicate our affections to him 
as entirely as our will; that is, we shall love only what 
he commands, and just as he has commanded ; that is, 
we shall not only do his will, but we shall love to do it, 
not only on account of what he is in himself^ but also 
on account of what he is and always has been to us. 
The language of our hearts will be, Father, not our will 
but thine be done. And, on the other hand, if we love 
his character and attributes as they deserve, we shall 



OBLIGATIOX TO SUrP.EME LOYE TO GOD. 161 

love to perform actions wliicli are in harmony with these 
attributes ; that is, which spring from the same disposi- 
tions in ourselves. In other words, we shall love to act 
in perfect accordance with the will of God. And still 
more, if we are penetrated with a proper conviction of 
the obligations of gratitude under which we are placed, 
we shall love to please our Supreme Benefactor ; and 
the only way in which we can do this is by implicitly 
obeying his commands. 

It was remarked, in a former part of this work, that 
happiness consists in the exercise of our sensitiveness 
upon its appropriate objects. Now, that man has moral 
sentiments — that is, that he is formed to derive happi- 
ness from the contemplation of moral qualities, and 
specially from the love of those beings in whom these 
moral qualities reside — is too evident to need argument. 
It is also evident that this is the highest and most ex- 
alted form of happiness of which he is susceptible. But 
created beings, and the moral qualities of created beings, 
are not the objects adapted to his moral sensitiveness. 
This power of our being finds its appropriate object in 
nothing less than in supreme and unlimited and infinite 
moral perfection. And yet more, the moral susceptibil- 
ity of happiness expands by exercise, and the uncreated 
object to which it is directed is, by necessity, unchang- 
able, eternal, and infinite. A provision is thus made 
for the happiness of man, eternal and illimitable ; that 
is to say, not only is it evident from the constitution of 
man that he is made to love God, but also that he is 
made to love him infinitely more than anything else ; 
to be happier from loving him than from loving any- 
thing else; and also to be more and more intensely 
nappy, from loving him, throughout eternity. 

Thus in general, from the relations which we sustain 
so God, we are under more imperative obligations than 
we are able to conceive to exercise towards him that 
temper of heart which is perhaps, in the language of 
men, best expressed by the term, a filial disposition ; that 
IS, a disposition to universal obedience, pervaded by the 
Bpin\ of supreme and grateful affection. This temper 
14* 



162 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

of heart is that generically denominated in the Scrip- 
tures, faith. In tlie New Testament it is somewhal 
modilied by the relations in which we stand to God, in 
consequence of the provisions of the remedial dispensa- 
tion. 

Now, all these dispositions would be required of ua 
if we were sinless beings, and possibly no others would 
be required. The same are manifestly our duty, after 
we have sinned ; for our sin changes neither the char- 
acter of God, nor his claim upon our obedience and 
affection. A child who has done wrong is not under 
any the less imperative obligation to exercise a filial 
disposition towards a parent. But, suppose a creature 
to have sinned, it is manifest that he would be under 
obligations to exercise another moral disposition. He 
ought to regret his fault, not on account of its conse- 
quences to himself, but on account of the violation of 
moral obligation, which is the essence of its guiltiness. 
Acknowledging its utter wrongfulness, justifying God, 
and taking all the blame of his act upon himself, he 
ought to hate his own act, and from such feelings to the 
act, as well as from the temper of filial obedience to 
God, commence a life of moral purity. Such is repent- 
ance. This is the temper of heart which the Scrip- 
tures teach us that God requires of us as sinners. 

III. Such, then, is the obligation under which, by 
our creation, we stand to God. It would be easy to 
show that this is the only principle of action suited to 
our nature under the present constitution. 

For, 1. As we live under a constitution of law, that 
is, under which every action is amenable to law, and 
since to every action is affixed, by omnipotent power 
and unsearchable wisdom, rewards or punishments, 
both in this life and also in the other, and as these 
consequences can by no power of ours be severed from 
tlie action, it is manifest that we can attain to happiness 
and escape from misery only by perfectly obeying the 
will of our Creator. And yet more, since we are crea- 
tures endowed with will and the power of choice, we 
never can be completely bappy unless we act as we 



OBLIGATION TO SUPKEME LOVE TO GOD. 1G3 

choose ; tliat is, unless we obey because we love to obey. 
Hence, from the elements of our constitution it is evi- 
dent we can be happy on no other principles than those 
of perfect obedience to God, and obedience emanating 
from and pervaded by love. 

2. The same truth is evident from a consideration 
of the relations which every individual sustains to the 
whole race of man. It manifestly enters into the con- 
stitution under which we exist that every individual 
shall have a power over society, both for good and for 
tTii, so far as we can see, in its nature illimitable. 
That sucli is the fact will be evident to every one who 
will reflect for a moment upon the results emanating 
f!;om the lives of St. Paul, Luther, Howard, Clarkson, 
or Wilberforce ; and of Alexander, Julius Caesar, Vol- 
taire, Lord Byron, or Napoleon. Now, it is only ne- 
cessary to recollect that the being possessed of this 
power is by nature utterly ignorant of the future ; 
wholly incapable, even durhig life, and ' much more 
after death, of controlling and. directing the conse- 
quences of his actions; and still more, that he is fallible^ 
— that is, liable not only to err from i^noi^aAce^ but alst? 
from a wrong moral bias ; and we must be r-onvlAcec? 
that the exercise of this power could never be safe for 
his fellows unless it were under the supreme dii-ectiop 
of a Being who knew the end from the beginning, auO 
who was by his very nature incapable of wrong. 

From what has been said it will follow that our dut) 
to God forbids — 

1. Idolatry ; tliat is, rendering supreme homage to 
any other being than the Deity. 

2. Eendering obedience to any creature in opposition 
to the will of the Creator. 

3. Yielding obedience to our own will, or gratifying 
our own desires, in opposition to his will. 

4. Loving anything wliich he has forbidden. 

5. Loving anything which he has allowed us to love 
in a manner and to a degree that lie has forbidden. 

Each of these topics is susceptible of extended illus- 
tration. As, however, they are discussed in full in 



1G4 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

works on theology, to which science they more particu- 
larly belong, we shall leave them with this simple enu- 
meration. 

In treating of the remainder of this subject, we shall, 
therefore, consider only the means by which the love 
of God, or piety, may be cultivated. These are three : 
1st. A spirit of devotion. 2d. Prayer. 8d. The ob- 
servance of the Sabbath. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE CULTIVATION OF A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT. 

From what has ah-eady been said, it will be seen thai 
the relation which we sustain to God imposes upon us 
the obligation of maintaining such an habitual temper 
towards him as shall continually incite us to do what- 
ever will please him. It is natural to suppose that our 
Creator would have placed us under such circumstances 
as would, from their nature, cultivate in us such a 
temper. Such we find to be the fact. We are sur- 
rounded by objects of knowledge which, not merely by 
their existence, bn.t also by their ceaseless changes, 
remind us of the attributes of God, and of the obliga- 
tions under which we are placed to him. A devotional 
spirit consists in making the moral use which is in- 
tended, of all the objects of intellection that come within 
our experience or our observation. 

1. Our existence is dependent on a succession of 
changes, which are taking place at every moment in 
ourselves, over which we have no power whatever, but 
of which each one involves the necessity of the existence 
and the superintending power of the Deity. The exist- 
ence of the whole material universe is of the same na- 
ture. Now, each of these changes is, with infinite skill, 
adapted to the relative conditions of all the beings 
whom they affect ; and they are subjected to laws which 
are most evident expressions of almighty power, of un- 
searchable wisdom, and of exhaustless goodness. Were 
we merely intellectual beings, it would not be possible 
for us to consider anything more than these laws them- 
selves ; but, inasmuch as we are intellectual, and also 



166 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

vioral beings, we are capable not only of considering 
the laws, but also our obligations to the Creator from 
whom such laws are the emanations. As everything 
which we can know teaches a lesson concerning God, 
if we connect that lesson with everything which we 
learn, everything will be resplendent with the attributes 
of Deity. By using in this manner the knowledge 
which is everywhere spread before us, we shall habitu- 
ally cultivate a devout temper of mind. Thus " the 
heavens will declare unto us the glory of God, and the 
firmament will show his handy-work; thus day unto 
day will utter speech, and night unto night show forth 
knowledge of him.^^ 

2. Nor is this true of physical nature alone. The 
whole history of the human race teaches us the same 
lesson. The rewards of virtue and the punishments 
of vice, as they are beheld in the events which befall 
both individuals and nations, all exhibit the attributes 
of the Deity. It is he that " stilleth the noise of the 
seas, the noise of their waves, and the tumult of the 
people." "The Lord reigneth; let the earth rejoice: 
let the multitude of isles be glad thereof. Clouds and 
darkness are round about him ; righteousness and 
judgment are the habitation of his throne." His for- 
bearance and long-suffering, and at the same time his 
inflexible justice, his love of right, and his hatred of 
wrong, are legibly written in every page of individual 
and national history. And hence it is that every fact 
which we witness in the government of moral beings 
has a twofold chain of connections and relations. To 
the mere political economist or the statesman it teaches 
the law by which cause and effect are connected. T« 
the pious man it also teaches the attributes of thai 
Being' who has so connected cause and effect^ and who, 
amidst all the intricate mazes of human motive and 
social organization, carries forward his laws with un- 
changing certainty and unerring righteousness. Now. 
it is by observing not merely the laiu^ but the moral 
lesson derived from the law; it is by observing nol 
merely the connections of events with each other, but 



THE CULTIVATION OF A DEVOTION" AL SPIRIT. 167 

also their connection with the great First CausCj that a 
devotional spirit is to be cultivated. 

And hence we see that knowledge of every kind, ii 
suitably improved, has, in its very nature, a tendency 
to devotion. If we do not thus use it, we sever it from 
its most important connections. We act simply as 
intellectual, and not as moral beings. We act contrary 
to the highest and most noble principles of our consti- 
tution. And hence we see how progress in knowledge 
really places us under progressive obligations to im- 
23rovement in piety. This should be borne in mind by 
every man, and specially by every educated man. For 
this improvement of our knowledge God holds us ac- 
countable. " Because they regard not the works of 
the Lord, nor consider the operations of his hand, there- 
fore will he destroy them." 

3. But if such are the obligations resting upon us 
from our relation to the works of Nature and Provi- 
dence, how much are these obligations increased by 
our knowledge of God, as it is presented to us by rev- 
elation ! I suppose that a person acquainted with the 
laws of optics, who had always stood with his back to the 
sun, might acquire much important knowledge of the 
nature of light, and of the path of the sun through the 
heavens, by reasoning from the reflection of that light 
observed in the surrounding creation. But how un- 
certain would be this knoAvledge, compared with that 
which he would acquire by looking directly upon the 
sun, and tracing his path by his own immediate obser> 
vation ! So of revelation. Here we are taught by 
language that truth which we otherwise could learn 
only by long and careful induction. God has here 
made known to us his attributes and character. Here 
he has recorded his law ; here he has written a portion 
of the history of our race, as a specimen of his provi- 
dential dealings with men ; and here he has, more than 
all, revealed to us a remedial dispensation, by which our 
sins may be forgiven, and we be raised to higher and 
more glorious happiness than that which we have lost. 
It surely becomes us, then, specially to study the Bible, 



!68 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

not merely as a book of antiquities, or a choice col- 
lection of poetry, or an inexhaustible storehouse of 
wisdom ; but for the more important purpose of ascer- 
taining the character of God, and our relations to him, 
and of thus cultivating towards him those feelings of 
filial and reverential homage which are so manifestly 
our duty, and which such contemplations are in their 
nature so adapted to foster and improve. 

4. A devout temper is also cultivated by the exercise 
of devotion. The more we exercise the feeling of 
veneration, of love, of gratitude, and of submission 
towards God, the more profound and pervading and 
uitense and habitual will these feelings become. And 
unless the feelings themselves be called into exercise, it 
will be in vain that we are persuaded that we ought to 
exercise them. It is one thing to be an admirer of 
devotion, and another thing to be really devout. It 
becomes us, therefore, to cultivate these feelings, by 
actually exercising towards God the very tempers of 
mmd indicated by our circumstances and our pro- 
gressive knowledge. Thus, submission to his will, 
thankfulness for his mercies, trust in his providence, 
reliance on his power, and sorrow for our sins, should 
be, not the occasional exercise, but the established habit 
of our souls. 

5. By tliQ constitution of our nature, a most inti- 
mate connection exists between action and motive ; 
between the performance of an action and the principle 
from which it emanates. The one cannot long exist 
without the other. True charity cannot long exist in 
the temper unless we perform acts of charity. Medi- 
tation upon goodness will soon become effete unless it 
be strengthened by good works. So the temper of 
devotion will be useless, nay, the profession of it must 
of necessity be hypocritical, unless it produce obedi- 
ence to God and universal love to man. By this 
alone is its existence known ; by this alone can it be 
successfully cultivated. The more perfectly our wills 
a,re subjected to the will of God, and our whole course 
of conduct regulated by his commands, the more ar- 



THE CULTIVATION OF A DEVOTIONAL SPIRIT. 169 

dent Avill bo our devotion, and tlic more fdial the temper 
from which our actions proceed. 

6. It is scarcely necessary to observe, that as peni- 
tence is a feeling resulting from a conviction of violated 
obligation, it is to be cultivated, not merely by consid- 
ering the character of God, but also our conduct towards 
him. The contrast between his goodness and compas- 
sion and our ingratitude and rebellion, is specially 
adapted to fill us with humility and self-abasement, 
and also with sorrow for all our past transgressions. 
Tluis said the prophet : " Woe is me, for I am a man of 
unclean lips ; and I dwell in the midst of a people of 
unclean lips ; for mine eyes have seen the King, the 
Lord of Hosts.''' 

Lastly. It is surely unnecessary to remark, that 
such a life as this is alone suited to the character of 
man. If God have made us capable of deriving our 
highest happiness from him, and have so constituted 
the universe around us as perpetually to lead us to 
this source of happiness, the most unreasonable, un- 
grateful, and degrading, not to say the most guilty 
course of conduct which we can pursue, must be to 
neglect and abuse this, the most noble part of our 
constitution, and to use the knowledge of the world 
around us for every other purpose than that for which 
it was created. Let every frivolous, thoughtless human 
being reflect what must be his condition when he, 
whose whole thoughts are limited by created things, 
shall stand in the presence of Him, " before whose face 
the heavens and the earth shall flee away, and there be 
no place left for them "I 

16 



CHAPTER TIL 

OF PRAYER. 

In the present chapter we shall treat of the nature^ 

the obligation^ and the utility of prayer. 

I. The nature of prayer. 

Prayer is the direct intercourse of the spirit of man 
with the spiritual and unseen Creator. '' God is a 
spirit, and those that worship him must worship him 
hi spirit and in truth." 

It consists in the expression of our adoration, the 
acknowledgment of our obligations, the offering up of 
our thanksgivings, the confession of our sins, and in 
supplication for the favors, both temporal and spiritual, 
which we need ; being always accompanied with a 
suitable temper of mind. 

This temper of mind presupposes — 

1. A solemn conviction of the character and attri- 
butes of God, and of the relations which he sustains 
to us. 

- 2. A conviction of the relations which we sustain to 
him, and of our obligations to him. 

3. An affecting view of our sinfulness, helplessness, 
and misery. 

4. Sincere gratitude for all the favors which we have 
received. 

5. A fixed and undissembled resolution to obey the 
commands of God in future. 

6. Unreserved submission to all his will. 

7. Unshaken confidence in his veracity. 

8. Importunate desires that our petitions, specially 
for spiritual blessings, should be granted. 



OF PRAYER. 171 

9. A soul at peace with all mankind. 

Illustrations of all these dispositions, from the prayers 
recorded in the holy Scriptures, as well as the precepts 
by which they are enforced, mig'ht l^e easily adduced. 
I presume, however, they are unnecessary. I will only 
remark, that it is not asserted that all these dispositions 
are always to he in exercise at the same time, but only 
such of them as specially belong to the present nature 
of our supplications. 

Inasmuch as we are dependent on God, not only for 
all the blessings which we derive directly from his hands, 
but also for all those which arise from our relations to 
each other, it is manifestly proper that we confess our 
sins, and supplicate his favor, not only as individuals, 
but as societies. Hence prayer may be divided into 
Lidi^idual, Domestic, and Social. 

Individual prayer. As the design of this institution 
is to bring us, as individuals^ into direct communion 
with God, to confess our personal infirmities, and to 
cultivate personal piety, it should be strictly in private. 

We are commanded to pray to our Father in secret. 
It should, moreover, be solemn, unreserved, and, in 
general, accompanied with the reading of the holy 
Scriptures. As, moreover, this direct communion with 
the unseen Creator is intended to be the great antago- 
nist force to the constant pressure of the things seen and 
temporal, it should be habitual and frequent. 

Domestic prayer. As the relation sustained by parents 
and children is the source of many and peculiar bless- 
ings ; as the relation involves peculiar responsibilities, 
hi the fulfilment of which we all need special guidance 
and direction, there is a peculiar propriety in the ac- 
knowledgment of God in connection with this relation. 
The importance of this duty is specially urged upon us 
by its effect upon the young. It associates with religion 
all the recollections of childhood, and all tlie sympathies 
of home. It gives to parental advice the sanction of 
religion, and in after-life recalls the mind to a convic- 
tion of duty to God, with all the motives drawn from a 
father's care and a mother's tenderness. 



172 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

Social prayer. Inasmuch as all our social and civil 
blessings are the gift of God, it is meet that we should, 
as societies, meet to acknowledge them. This is one of 
the most important duties of the Sabbath day. It will 
therefore be more fully treated of under that branch 
of the subject. 

Since prayer is the offering up of our desires, etc., 
with a suitable temper of heart, it is manifest that the 
question whether a form of prayer, or extemporary 
prayer, should be used, is merely one of expediency, 
and has no connection with morals. We are imder 
obligation to use that which is of the greatest spiritual 
benefit to the individual. Private prayer should, how- 
ever, I think, be expressed in the words of the supplicant 
himself. 

II. The duty of prayer. 

The duty of prayer may be seen from the conditions of 
our being-, and /row the holy Sci'iptures. 

I. The conditions of our being. 

1. We are utterly powerless, ignorant of the future, 
essentially dependent at the present and for the future, 
and are miserably sinful. We need support, direction, 
wisdom, pardon, and purification. These can come 
from no other being than God, who is under no obliga- 
tion to confer them upon us. What can be more mani- 
festly proper than that we should supplicate the Father 
of tlie universe for tliose blessings which are necessary, 
not only for our happiness, but for our existence ; and 
that we should receive every favor with a devout ac- 
knowledgment of the terms on which it is bestowed ? 

2. Inasmuch as we are sinners, and have forfeited the 
blessings which we daily receive, what can be more suita- 
ble than that we should humbly thank that Almighty 
power from whom comes such an inexhaustible supply 
of goodness to us so utterly undeserving ? And what 
more obligatory than to ask the pardon of our Creator 
for those sins of omission and of commission with which 
we are every hour chargeable ? 

3. Specially is this our duty, when we reflect that this 
very exercise of habitual reliance upon God is necessary 



OF PRAYER. 173 

to our happiness in our present state, and that the tem- 
per which it presupposes is essential to our progress in 
virtue. 

That such is the dictate of our moral constitution is 
GYident from the fact that all men who have any notion 
of a Supreme Being, under any circumstances, acknowl- 
edge it as a duiy, and, in some form or other, profess lo 
practise it. And besides this, all men, even the most 
abandoned and profligate, when in danger, pray most ear- 
nestly. This has been the case with men who, in health 
and safety, scoiT at religion and ridicule the idea of moral 
obligation. But it is evident that it can be neither more 
proper nor more suitable to pray when we are in danger, 
than to pray at any other time ; for our relations to 
God are always the same, and we are always essentially 
dependent upon him for everything, both temporal and 
spiritual, that we either enjoy at the present, or hope for 
in the future. It is surely as proper to thank God for 
those mercies ivhich ive receive every moment^ as to dep- 
recate those judgments by ivMch ive are occasionally 
alarmed. 

2. The duty of prayer as taught in the Scriptures. 

The Scriptures treat of prayer as a duty arising so 
immediately out of our relations to God, and our obli- 
gations to him, as scarcely to need a positive precept. 
Every disposition of heart which we are commanded to 
exercise towards God, presupposes it. Hence it is gen- 
erally referred to, incidentally, as one of which the obli 
gation is already taken for granted. Precepts, however, 
are not wanting in respect to it. I here only speak of 
the general tendency of the Scripture instructions. 

1. It is expressly commanded : '' Pray without ceas- 
ing.''' '• In every tiling 'giving thanks, for this is the 
will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you." " In all 
things^ by prayer and supplication, let your request be 
made known imto God" (Phil iv. 6). '' I exhort that 
supplications and prayers, intercessions and giving of 
thanks, be made for all men ; for this is good and ac- 
ceptable in the sight of God our Saviour" (1 Tim. ii. 1-3). 

2. God declares it to be a prhicinal condition on which 

15* 



174 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

he will bestow favors. " If any man lack wisdom, lei 
him ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally, and 
upbraideth not, and it shall be given him " (James i. 5) 
" Ask, and it shall be given you ; seek, and ye shaD 
find ; knock, and it shall be opened unto you : for every 
one that asketh, receiveth ; and he that seeketh, findeth ; 
and to him that knocketh, it shall be opened. Or, what 
man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he 
give him a stone ? or if he ask a fish, will he give him 
a serpent ? If ye then, being evil, know how to give 
good gifts to your children, how much more shall your 
Father that is in heaven give good things to them that 
ask him f " (Matthew vii. 7-11.-) Now, it is too obvi- 
ous to need a remark, that God would not have con- 
nected so important consequences with prayer unless 
he meant to inculcate it as a universal duty. 

3. The Scriptures make the habit of prayer the 
mark of distinction between the righteous and the 
wicked ; between the enemies and the friends of God. 
Thus the wicked say : " What is the Almighty, that 
we should serve him ? or what profit shall we have, if 
we call upon him ? " (Job xxi. 15.) " The wicked, 
through the pride of his countenance^ will not seek aftei 
God. God is not in all his thoughts" (Psalms x. 4). 
On the contrary, righteous persons, those whom God 
approves, are specially designated as those who call upon 
him. 

4. Examples of the prayers of good men are in the 
Scriptures very abundant. In fact, a large part of the 
Bible is made up of the prayers and praises of those 
whom God has held up for our imitation. To transcribe 
these would be to transcribe extensive portions of the 
sacred books. 

5. The Bible abounds with examples, recorded by 
God, of special answers to prayer of every kind that 
can be conceived. There are examples of the success- 
ful prayer of individuals for temporal and for spiritual 
blessings, both for themselves and for others ; of indi- 
vidual prayers for nations, and of nations for them- 
selves ; of individuals for societies, and of societies for 



OF PRAYER. 175 

individuals ; and, indeed, of men in all the circumstances 
in which they can be placed, for every blessing and 
under every variety of relation. Now, what God has, 
at so great length, and in so great a variety of ways, 
encouraged us to do, must be not only a privilege but 
a duty. 

In a word, the Bible teaches us, on this subject, that 
our relation to God is infinitely nearer and more uni- 
versal than that in which we can possibly stand to any 
other being. He allows us, with the simplicity and 
confidence of children, to unbosom all our cares, to 
make known all our wants, and express all our thanks, 
with unreserved freedom, to him. He assures us that 
this exercise, and the temper from which it springs, 
and which it cultivates, is most acceptable to him. 
And, having thus condescended to humble himself to 
our situation, he holds us as most ungrateful, proud, 
insolent, and sinful, if we venture to undertake any 
business or receive any favor without holding direct 
and childlike communion with him. 

6. Under the remedial dispensation, a special encour- 
agement is given to prayer. We are there taught that 
though we are unworthy of the blessings which we need, 
yet we may ask and receive, for the sake of the Medi- 
ator. " Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my 
name he will give it you." The death of Christ is also 
held forth as our special ground of confidence in prayer : 
" He that spared not his own Son, but gave him up for 
us all, how shall he not, with him, freely give us all 
things ? " And yet more, we are informed that it is 
the special office of the exalted Mediator to intercede 
for us before the throne of God. Greater encourage- 
ments than these to prayer could not possibly be con- 
ceived, 

HI. Tlie utility of prayer. 

This may be shown — 

1. From the nature and attributes of God. He would 
not require anything of us which was not for our good. 

2. The utility of prayer is seen from the tempers of 
mind which it presupposes. We Jiave already shown 



176 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

what these tempers of mind are. Now, it must be evi- 
dent to every one that the habitual exercise of these 
dispositions must be, in the nature of the case, in the 
highest degree beneficial to such creatures as we. 

3. The utility of prayer is also evident from its con- 
nection with our reception of favors from God. 

a. In tlie government of this world, God establishes 
such connections between cause and effect, or antece- 
dent and consequent, as he pleases. He has a perfect 
right to do so. The fact that one event is the antece- 
dent of another, involves not the supposition of any 
essential power in the antecedent, but merely the 
supposition that God has placed it in that relation to 
something that is to follow. 

b. The bestowment of favors is one event. God has 
a right to ordain whatever antecedent to this event he 
chooses. We are not competent to say of any event 
that it cannot be the antecedent to the bestowment of 
favors, any more than that rain cannot be the antece- 
dent to the growth of vegetation. 

c. Since, then, any event whatever may be the ante- 
cedent to any other event whatever, we are surely not 
competent to say that prayer cannot be the antecedent 
to the bestowment of favors, any more than to say this 
of anything else. It is surely, to say the least of it, 
as good as any other antecedent, if God saw fit so to 
ordain. 

d. But, since God is a moral Governor, and must 
therefore delight in and reward virtuous tempers, there 
is a manifest moral propriety in his making these tem- 
pers the antecedent to his bestowment of blessings. 
Nay, we cannot conceive how he would be a righteous 
moral Governor unless he did do so. And hence we 
see that the supposition that God bestows blessings in 
answer to prayer, which he would not bestow on any 
other condition, is not only not at variance with any of 
his natural, but that it is even demanded by his morai 
attributes. 

e.'But, inasmuch as God has revealed to us the fact 
thiit tliis is the condition on wliich he ])ostows the most 



OP PRAYER. 177 

valuable of his gifts, and as he has bound himself by 
his promise to reward abundantly all who call upon 
him, the utility of prayer, to creatures situated as we 
are, is as manifest as our necessities are urgent, both 
for time and for eternity. 

4. And, finally, there can be no clearer evidence of 
the goodness of God than just such a constitution as 
this. God promises favors in answer to prayer ; but 
prayer, as we have seen, is one of the most efficient 
means of promoting our moral perfection ; that is, our 
highest happiness ; that is to say, God promises us 
favors on conditions which, in themselves, involve the 
greatest blessings which we could possibly desire. 
Bishop Wilson beautifully remarks, "How good is God, 
who will not only give us what we pray for, but will 
reward us for going to him and laying our wants before 
him ! " 

That a man will, however, receive everything he asks 
for, and just as he asks for it, is by no means asserted 
in an unlimited sense ; but only that which he prays 
for in a strict sense. True prayer is the offering up 
of our desires in entire subjection to the will of God ; 
that is, desiring that he will do what we ask, if he in 
his infinite wisdom and goodness sees that it will be 
best. Now, if we ask thus^ our prayer will be granted, 
for thus he has promised to do for us. Hence our 
prayers respecting temporal blessings are answered 
only contingently ; that is, under this condition. But 
our prayers respecting spiritual blessings are answered 
absolutely ; for God has positively promised to give his 
Holy Spirit to them that ask him. 

If God have allowed us thus to hold the most inti- 
mate and unreserved communion with him ; and if he 
have promised, on this condition, to support us by his 
power, to "teach us by his wiedom, to purify us by his 
Spirit, and to work in us all those tempers which he 
sees will best prepare us for the highest state of future 
felicity — what can be more ennobling and more lovely 
than a prayerful life ? and what more ungrateful and 
Binful tlian a life of thoughtless irreverence and impi 



178 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

Gtj'^ Is not the single fact of living without habitual 
prayer a conclusive evidence that we have not the love 
of God in us ? that we are living iu habitual violation 
of every obligation that binds us to our Maker? and 
that we are, therefore, under the solemn condemnation 
of his most holy law ? 



CHAPTER IV. 



THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 

This is the second special means appointed by our 
Creator for the purpose of cultivating in us suitable 
moral dispositions. We shall treat, first, Of the original 
institution of the Sabbath; secondly, Of the Mosaic Sab- 
bath; thirdly. Of the Christian Sabbath. 

Although the Sabbath is a positive institution, and 
therefore the proof of its obligation is to be sought for 
entirely from revelation, yet there are indications in the 
present constitution that periods of rest are necessary 
both for man and for beast. The recurrence of night, and 
the necessity of repose, show that the principle of rest 
enters into the present system as much as that of labor. 
And, besides, it is found that animals \Yhich are allowed 
one day in seven for rest, live longer, and enjoy better 
health, than those which are worked without intermis 
sion. The same may, to a considerable degree, be said 
of man. The late Mr. Wilberforce attributed his length 
of life, and the superiority of health which he enjoyed 
over that of his political contemporaries, mainly to his 
resolute and invariable observance of the Sabbath day ; a 
duty which, unfortunately, they too frequently neglected. 

I shall not go into the argument on tliis subject in 
detail, as the limits of the present work will not admit 
of it, but shall merely give what seem to me the results. 
To those who wish to examine the question of the obli- 
gation of the Sabbath at large, I woidd recommend the 
valuable treatise of Mr. J. J. Gurney, on the history, 
authority, and use of the Sabbath ; from which much 
of the present article is merely an abridgment. 



180 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

I. Of the original institution of the Sabbath. 

First. The Divine authority for the institution of the 
Sabbath is found in Genesis ii. 1-3 : " Thus the 
heavens and the earth were finished, and all the hosts 
of them ; and on the seventh day God ended his work 
which he had made, and he rested on the seventh day 
from all his works which he had made. And God 
blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it ; because that 
in it he had rested from all his work which God had 
created and made." 

Now, concerning this passage, we remark : 

1. It was given to our first parents ; that is, to the 
whole human race. 

2. God blessed it ; that is, bestowed upon it a pecu- 
liar blessing, or made it a source of peculiar blessings to 
man. Such, surely, must be that day which is given in 
order to cultivate in ourselves moral excellence, and pre- 
pare us for the happiness of heaven. He sanctified it ; 
that is, set it apart from a common to a sacred and reli- 
gious use. 

3. The reason is a general one : God rested. This 
has no reference to any peculiar people, but seems in 
the light of an example from God for all the human 
race. 

4. The nature of the ordinance is general. God 
sanctified it; that is, the day. The act refers not to any 
particular people, but to the day itself. 

5. The object to be accomplished is general, and can 
apply to no one people more than to another. If it be 
rest, all men equally need it. If it be moral cultiva- 
tion, surely no people has ever existed who did not 
require such a means to render them better. 

Secondly. There are indications that the hebdoma- 
dal division of time was observed by the patriarchs 
before the time of Moses, and that the Sabbath was 
regarded as the day for religious worship. 

a. Genesis iv. 3 : " And in process of time, it came 
to pass that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an 
offering to the Lord." The words rendered " in pro- 
cess of time," literally signify " at the end of days ; " 



THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 181 

or, " at the cutting off of days ; " that is, as I think 
probable, at the close, as we should say, of a section of 
days ; a very natural expression for the end of a week. 
If this be the meaning, it would seem to refer to the 
division of time just previously mentioned, and also to 
the use of this day for religious worship. 

b. Noah seems to have observed the same hebdoma- 
dal division of time. The command to enter into the 
ark was given seven days before the flood came. (Gen 
esis vii. 4-10.) So he allowed seven days to elapse 
between the times of sending forth the dove. (Genesis 
viii. 10-12.) Now, I think that these intimations show 
that this division of time was observed according to the 
original command ; and we may well suppose that with 
it was connected the special time for religious worship. 
Thus, also, Joseph devoted seven days, or a whole week, 
to the mourning for his father. 

c. The next mention of the Sabbath is shortly after 
the Israelites had left Egypt, and were fed with manna 
in the wilderness. (Exodus xvi. 22-30.) As the pas- 
sage is of considerable length, I need not quote it. I 
V70uld, however, remark : 

a. It occurs before the giving of the law ; and, 
therefore, the obligatoriness of the Sabbath is hereby 
acknowledged, irrespective of the Mosaic law. 

b. When first alluded to, it is spoken of as a thing 
known. God first, without referring to the Sabbath, 
informs Moses that on the sixth day the Israelites should 
gather twice as much manna as on any other day. 
From this it seems that the division of time by weeks 
was known ; and that it was taken for granted that 
they would know the reason for the making of this 
distinction. In the whole of the narration there is no 
precept gi^ en for the keeping of the day ; but they are 
reproved for not suitably keeping it, as though it 
were an institution ivith ivhich they ought to have been 
familiar. 

Besides these, there are many indications in the ear- 
liest classics that the Greeks and Romans observed the 
hebdomadal division of time ; and also that the sev- 
16 



182 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

enth day was considered peculiarly sacred. This seems 
to have been the case in the time of Hesiod. The same 
is supposed to have been the fact in regard to the north- 
ern nations of Europe, from which we are immediately 
descended. The inference which seems naturally to 
arise from these facts is, that this institution was origi- 
nally observed by the whole human race ; and that it 
was transmitted, with different degrees of care, by dif- 
ferent nations, until the period of the commencement 
of our various historical records. 

From the above facts I think we are warranted in 
the conclusion that the seventh day, or perhaps, gener- 
ally, the seventh part of time, was originally set apart 
for a religious purpose, by our Creator, for the whole 
human race ; that it was so observed by the Hebrews 
previously to the giving of the law ; and that, probably, 
the observance was, in the infancy of our race, uni 
versal. 

II. The Mosaic Sabbath. 

The precept for the observance of the Sabbath, at tliP 
giving of the law, is in these words :, " Remember the 
Sabbath day to keep it holy. Six days shalt thou labor 
and do all thy work ; but the seventh is the Sabbath of 
the Lord thy God ; in it thou shalt not do any wo^^k 
thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, nor thy man-ser- 
vant, nor thy maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor xliv 
stranger that is within thy gates ; for in six days -th^ 
Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all thaC iw 
them is, and rested the seventh day. Whereforo 'A\j 
Lord blessed the seventh day and hallowed it " (Ez<j- 
c as XX. 9-11). 

. Now, concerning this precept, there are several things 
worthy of remark : 

1. It is found in the law of the ten commandments r 
which is always referred to in the Scriptures as coi;t?ia- 
ing the sum of the moral precepts of God to man. Ou/ 
Saviour and the apostles, who made the most decided 
distinction between moral and ceremonial observances, 
never allude to the law of the ten commandments hi 
any othei manner than as of permanent and universal 



T/IE OBSIIRYANCE OF THE SABBATH. 183 

obligation. Now, I know of no reason wliicli can be 
assigned why this precept shonld be detached from all 
the rest, and considered as ceremonial^ when the whole 
of these, taken together, are allowed by universal con- 
sent to have been quoted as moral precepts by Christ 
and his apostles. Besides, our Saviour expressly de- 
clares that " the Sabbath ivas made for man ; " that is, 
for man in general, for the whole human race ; and, 
consequently, that it is binding upon the whole race ; 
that is, that it is a precept of universal obligation. 

2. The reasons given for observing it are the same as 
those given at the time of its first institution. Inas- 
much as these reasons are in their nature general, we 
should naturally conclude that the obligation which it 
imposes is universal. 

3. This commandment is frequently referred to by 
the prophets as one of high moral obligation ; the 
most solemn threatenings are uttered against those who 
profane it ; and the greatest rewards promised to those 
who keep it. See Isaiah Ivi. 2-6 ; Jeremiah xvii. 24, 25 ; 
Nehemiah xiii. 15-21. 

4. In addition to rest from labor, the meeting together 
for worship and the reading of the Scriptures ^' o ^^ 
made a part of the duty of the Sabbath day. Six days 
shall work be done ; but the seventh is the Sabbath of 
rest — a holy convocation. (Leviticus xxiii. 3.) Thus 
also Moses of old time hath in every city them t Uat 
preach him, being read in the synagogues every Sabbalh 
day. (Acts xv. 21.) 

Besides this reenaction of the Sabbath day, in the 
Mosaic law there were special additions made to its 
observance which belong to the Jews alone, and wb'ch 
were a part of their civil or ceremonial law. With his 
view other reasons were given for observing it, aiid 
other rites were added. Thus, for instance : 

1. It was intended to distinguish them from the srir- 
rounding idolatrous nations. (Exodus xxxi. 12-17.) 

2. It was a memorial of their deliverance from Egypt. 
(Deuteronomy v. 15.) 

3. And with these views the principle of demoting 



184 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

the seventh part of time was extended also to years , 
every sevcntli year being a year of rest. 

4. The violation of the Sabbath was punished with 
death by the civil magistrate. 

Now, whatever is in its nature local, and designed for 
a particular purpose, ceases whenever that purpose is 
accomplished. Hence these civil and ceremonial obser- 
vances cease with the termination of the Jewish polity; 
while that which is moral and universal, that which 
" was made for man," and not specially for the Jews-, 
remains as though the ceremonial observances had 
never existed. I think that this view of the subject is 
also confirmed by the example and precept of Christ, 
who gave directions concerning the manner in which 
the Sabbath was to be kept, and also was himself accus- 
tomed to observe the day for the purposes of religious 
worship. ''As his custom was, he went into the syna- 
gogue on the Sabbath day, and stood up to read^^ 
(Luke iv. 16. See also Matthew xii. 2-13). When 
our Lord, also, in teaching the mode in which the Sab- 
bath is to be kept, specifies what things it is lawful to 
do on the Sabbath day, he clearly proceeds upon the 
principle that it was lawful to do things on other days 
which it would not be lawful to do on the Sabbath day, 

III. The Christian Sahbath. 

We shall consider here, first, the day on which the 
Christian Sabbath is to be kept ; second, the manner 
in which it is to be kept. 

First. The day on which the Christian Sabbath is 
to be kept. 

Fi7'st. There are indications, from the facts which 
transpired on the first day of the week, that it was to be 
specially honored under the new dispensation. 

1. Our Saviour arose on that day from the dead, 
having accomplished the work of man's redemption. 

2. On this day he appeared to his apostles, a week 
from his resurrection, at which time he had his conver- 
sation with Thomas. 

3. On this day, also, occurred the feast of Pentecost^ 
when the Spirit was in so remarkable a manner poured 



THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 185 

out, and when the new dispensation emphatically com- 
menced. 

Secojid. That the primitive Christians, in the days of 
the apostles, were accustomed to observe this day as 
their day of weekly worship, is evident from several 
passages in the New Testament, and also from the 
earliest ecclesiastical records. 

1. That the early disciples were accustomed to meet 
statedly to worship and celebrate the Lord's Supper, is 
.evident from 1 Corinthians xvi. 1, 2. 

.2. That these meetings, also, were held on the first day 
of the week, is also further evident from Acts xx. 6-11 ; 
where we are informed that in Troas the Christians 
met on the first day of the week to break bread, — that 
is, to celebrate the Lord's Supper, — and to receive re- 
ligious instruction. From these passages we see that 
this custom had already become universal, not merely 
in the neighborhood of Jerusalem, but throughout the 
regions in which the Christian religion was promulgated. 

3. Again (Revelation i. 10), it is observed by John : 
" I was in the Spirit on the Lord's day.'''' From this 
remark it is probable that John kept this day with pecu- 
liar solemnity. It is certain that the day had already 
obtained a particular name — a name by which it has 
continued to be distinguished in every subsequent age. 

Besides these allusions to the day from the New Tes- 
tament, there are various facts bearing upon the sub- 
ject from uninspired historians. 

1. The early Fathers frequently refer to this day as 
the day set apart for religious worship, and allude to 
the diiference between keeping this day and keeping 
the seventh, or Jewish Sabbath, specially on the ground 
of its being the day of our Saviour's resurrection. 

2. Pliny, in his letter to Trajan, remarks that the 
Christians " were accustomed, on a stated day, to meet 
before daylight, and to repeat among themselves a 
hymn to Christ, as to a god, and to bind themselves 
by a sacred obligation not to commit any wickedness, 
but, on the contrary, to abstain from thefts, robberies, 
and adulteries ; also not to ^''^late their promise or 



186 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

deny a pledge ; after which it was their custom to scjv 
arato, and meet again at a promiscuous and harmless 
meal." It is proper here to remark the exact coin- 
cidence between this account, from "the pen of a heathen 
magistrate, and the account given of the keeping of 
the day in the passages where it is mentioned in the 
New Testament. 

3. That this stated day was the first day of the week, 
or the Lord's day, is evident from another testimony. 
So well known was the custom of the early Christians 
on this subject, that the ordinary question put by their 
persecutors to the Christian martyrs was, '^ Hast thou 
kept the Lord' s day ? ' ' — Dominicum servasti ? To which 
the usual answer was, " I am a Christian : I cannot 
omit it." — Christianus sum : intermittere non possum. 

4. It is, however, manifest that the Jews, who were 
strongly inclined to blend the rites of Moses with the 
Christian religion, at first kept the seventh day ; or, 
what is very probable, at first kept both days. The 
apostles declared that the disciples of Jesus were not 
under obligation to observe the seventh day. See 
Colossians ii. 16, 17. Now, as the observance of the 
Sabbath is a precept given to the whole human race ; 
as it is repeated in the Mosaic law as a moral precept ; 
as the authority of this precept is recognized both by 
the teaching and example of Christ and his apostles ; as 
the apostles teach that the keeping of the seventh day 
is not obligatory ; and as they did keep the first day 
as a day of religious worship^ — it seems reasonable to 
conclude that they intended to teach that the first da^ 
was that which we are, as Christians, to observe. 

5. From these considerations we feel warranted to 
conclude that the first day of the week ivas actualli; 
kepi by the inspired apostles as the Christian Sabbath. 
Their example is sufficient to teach us that the keeping 
of this day is acceptable to God ; and we are, on this 
ground, at liberty to keep' it as tlie Sabbath. If, how- 
ever, any other person be dissatisfied with these reasons, 
and feel under obligation to observe the seventh day, 1 
see no precept in the Word of God to forbid him. 



THE OBSERVANX'E OF THE SABBATH. 187 

6. If, however, as seems to me to be the case, both 
days are allowable, — that is, if I have sufficient reason 
to believe that either is acceptable to God ; but if, by 
observing the first day, I can enjoy more perfect leisure, 
and suffer less interruption, and thus better accomplish 
the object of the day ; and if, besides, I have the exam- 
ple of inspired apostles in favor of this observance, — 
I should decidedly prefer to observe the first day. Nay, 
I should consider the choice of that day as obligatory. 
For,' if I am allowed to devote either day to the wor- 
ship of God, it is surely obligatory on me to worship 
God on that day on which I can best accomplish the 
very object for which the day was set apart. 

If it be asked when this day is to begin, I answer, 
that I presume we are at liberty to commence this day 
at the same time that we commence other days ; for 
the obvious reason, that thus we can generally enjoy 
the quiet of the Sabbath with less interruption. 

Secoxdly. Of the manner in which the Christian 
Sabbath is to be observed. 

The design for which the Sabbath was instituted, I 
suppose to be, to set apart a portion of our time for the 
uninterrupted worship of God, and the preparation of 
our souls for eternity ; and also to secure to man and 
beast one day in seven as a season of rest from labor. 

Hence the law of the Sabbath forbids — 

1. All labor of body or mind, of which the immediate 
object is not the worship of God or our own religious 
improvement. The only exceptions to this rule arc 
works of necessity or of mercy. The necessity, how- 
ever, must be one which is imposed by the providenco 
of God, and not by our own will. Thus a ship, wlien 
on a voyage, may sail on the Sabbath, as well as on any 
other day, without violating the rule. The rule, how- 
ever, would be violated by commencing the voyage on 
the Sabbath, because here a choice of days is in the 
power of the master. 

2. The pursuit of pleasure^ or of any physical or 
merely jntellectual gratification. Hence the iiidul- 
gence of our appetites in such manner as to prevent 



188 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

US from fiee and buoyant spiritual contemplation, rid- 
ing or journeying for amusement, the merely social 
pleasure of visiting, the reading of books designed for 
the gratification of the taste or of the imagination, are 
all, by the principles of the command, forbidden. 
3. The labor of those committed to our charge. 

a. The labor of servants. Their souls are of as 
much value as our own, and they need the benefit of 
this law as much as ourselves. Besides, if this portion 
of their time be claimed by our Creator, we have i\^ 
right to purchase it, nor have they a right to negotiate 
it away. Works of necessity must of course be per- 
formed ; but these should be restricted within the limits 
prescribed by a conscientious regard to the object and 
Jesign of the day. 

b. Brutes are, by the fourth commandment, included 
in the law which ordains rest to all the animate crea- 
tion. They need the repose which it grants, and they 
are entitled to their portion of it. 

On the contrary, the law of the Sabbath enjoins the 
employment of the day in the more solemn and immediate 
duties of religion. 

a. Reading the Scriptures, religious meditation, 
prayer in private, and also the special instruction in 
religion of those committed to our charge. And hence 
it enjoins such domestic arrangements as are consistent 
with these duties. 

b. Social worship. Under the Mosaic and Christian 
dispensation, this was an important part of the duties 
of the day. As the setting apart of a particular day to 
be universally observed, involves the idea of social as 
well as personal religion, one of the most obviou.s duties 
^liich it imposes is that of social worship ; that is, of 
meeting together in societies to return thanks for our 
social mercies, to implore the pardon of God for our 
social sins, and beseech his favor for those blessings 
which we need as societies, no less than as individuals. 

The importance of the religious observance of the 
Sabbath is seldom sufficiently estimated. Every atten- 
tive observer has remarked that the violation of tliis 



THE OBSERVANCE OF THE SABBATH. 189 

command by the young is one of the most decided 
marks of incipient moral degeneracy. Religious re- 
straint is fast losing its hold upon that young man who, 
having been educated in the fear of God, begins to spend 
the Sabbath in idleness, or in amusement. And so 
also of communities. Tlie desecration of the Sabbath 
is one of those evident indications of that criminal reck- 
lessness, that insane love of pleasure, and that subjection 
to the government of appetite and passion, which fore- 
bodes that the " beginning of the end" of social happi- 
ness, dnd of true national prosperity, has arrived. 

Hence we see how imperative is the duty of parents 
and of legislators on this subject. The head of every 
family is obliged, by the command of God, not only to 
honor this day himself, but to use all the means in his 
power to secure the observance of it by all those com- 
mitted to his charge. He is thus promoting not only 
his own, but also his children's happiness ; for nothing 
is a more sure antagonist force to all the allurements 
of vice, as nothing tends more strongly to fix in the 
minds of the young a conviction of the existence and 
attributes of God, than the solemn keeping of this day. 
And hence, also, legislators are false to their trust, who, 
either by the enactment of laws, or by their example, 
diminish in the least degree, in the minds of a people, 
the reverence due to that day which God has set apart 
for himself. 

The only question which remains is the following : 

Is it the duty of the civil magistrate to enforce the 
observance of the Sabbath ? 

We are inclined to think not, and for the following 
reasons : 

1. The duty arises solely from our relations to God, 
and not from our relations to man. Now, our duties 
to God are never to be placed within the control of 
human legislation. 

2. If the civil magistrate has a right to take cogni- 
zance of this duty to God, he has a right to take cogni- 
zance of every other. And if he have a right to take 
cognizance of the duty, he has a right to prescribe in 



190 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

wliat manner it shall be discharged ; or, if he see fit, to 
forbid the observance of it altogether. The concession 
of this right would therefore lead to direct interference 
with liberty of conscience. 

3. The keeping of the Sabbath is a moral duty. 
Hence, if it be acceptably observed, it must be a volun- 
tary service. But the civil magistrate can never do 
anything more than produce obedience to the external 
precept, which, in the sight of God, would not be the 
keeping of the Sabbath at all. Hence, to allow the civil 
magistrate to enforce the observance of the Sabbath, 
would be to surrender to him the control over the con- 
science, without attaining even the object for which the 
surrender was made. 

4. It is, however, the duty of the civil magistrate to 
protect every individual in the undisturbed right of 
worshipping God as he pleases. This protection every 
individual has a right to claim, and society is under 
obligation to extend it. And also, as this is a leisure 
day, and is liable to various abuses, the magistrate has 
a right to prevent any modes of gratification which 
would tend to disturb the peace of society. This right 
is acknowledged in regulations respecting other days 
of leisure or rejoicing, and there can be no reason why 
it should not be exercised in respect to the Sabbath. 

6. And, lastly, the law of the Sabbath applies equally 
to societies and to individuals. An individual is for- 
bidden to labor on the Sabbath, or to employ another 
person to labor for him. The rule is the same when 
applied to any number of individuals ; that is, to a 
society. Hence a society has no right to employ persons 
to labor for them, except when labor is demarded by 
necessity or benevolence. 



PART II 



DUTIES TO MAN.— RECIPROCITY AND 
BENEVOLENCE. 



DIVISION I. 

THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY. — GENERAL PRINCIPLE ILLUS 
TRATED, AND THE DUTIES OF RECIPROCITY CLASSIFIED. 

It has been already observed that our duties to botii 
God and man are all enforced by the obligation of love 
to God. By this we mean that, in consequence of our 
moral constitution, we are under obligation to love our 
fellow-men, because they are our fellow-men ; and we 
are also under obligation to love them because we have 
been commanded to love them by our Father who is in 
heaven. The nature of this obligation may be illus- 
trated by a familiar example. Every child in a family 
is under obligation to love its parent. And every child 
is bound to love its brother, both because he is its 
brother^ and also because this love is a duty enforced 
by the relation in which they both stand to their common 
parent. 

The relation in which men stand to each other is 
essentially the relation of equality ; not equality of con- 
dition, but equality of right. 

Every human being is a distinct and separately ac- 
countable individual. To each one God has given just 
such means of happiness, and placed him under just 
such circumstances for improving those means of hap- 
piness, as it has pleased him. To one he has giveu 



192 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

v\^ealth ; to another, intellect ; to another, physical 
strength ; to another, health ; and to all in different 
degrees. In all these respects the human race presents 
a scene of the greatest possible diversity. So far as 
natural advantages are concerned, we can scarcely find 
two individuals who are not created under circum- 
stances widely dissimilar. 

But, viewed in another light, all men are placed 
under circumstances of perfect equality. Each sepa- 
rate individual is created with precisely the same right 
to use the advantages w\i\\ which God has endowed 
him as every other individual. This proposition seems 
to me in its nature so self-evident as almost to preclude 
the possibihty of argument. The truth that every man 
HAS A RIGHT TO HIMSELF, can hardly be rendered more 
evident by argument. It is of the nature of a moral 
axiom. 

The only reason that 1 can conceive on which any 
one could found a plea for inequality of right, — that 
is, for a right in one man to appropriate to himself the 
faculties or means of happiness of another, — must be 
inequality of condition. But this can manifestly create 
no diversity of right. I may have been endowed with 
better eyesight than my neighbor ; but this evidently 
gives me no right to put out his eyes, or to interfere 
with his right to derive from them whatever of happi- 
ness the Creator has placed within his power. I may 
have greater muscular strength than my neighbor ; but 
this gives me no right to break his arms, or to diminish 
in any manner his ability to use them for the produc- 
tion of his own happiness. 

Besides, this supposition involves direct and manifest 
contradiction ; for the principle asserted is, that superi- 
ority of condition confers superiority of right. But, if 
this be true, then every kind of superiority of condition 
must confer correspondent superiority of right. Supe- 
riority in muscular strength must confer it as much as 
superiority of intellect or of wealth, and must confer it 
in the ratio of that superiority. In that case, if A, on 
the ground of intellectual superiority, have a right to 



THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY. 193 

(mprove liis ovrii means of liappiiiess by diminishing 
those which the Creator has given to B, B would have 
the same right over A, on the ground of superiority of 
muscular strength ; while C w^ould have a correspon- 
dent right over them both, on the ground of superiority 
of wealth ; and so on indefinitely. And these rights 
would change every day, according to the relative situ- 
ation of the respective parties. That is to say, as right 
is in its nature exclusive, all the men in the universe 
have an exclusive right to the same thing, while the 
right of every one absolutely annihilates that of every 
other. What is the meaning of such an assertion I 
leave it for others to determine. 

But let us look at man in another point of light. 

1. We find all men possessed of the same appetites 
and passions ; that is, of the same desires for external 
objects, and the same capacity for receiving happiness 
from the gratification of these desires. We do not say 
that all men possess them all in an equal degree ; but 
only that all men actually possess them all, and that 
their happiness depends upon the gratification of them. 

2. These appetites and passions are created, so far 
as they themselves are exclusively concerned, without 
limit. Gratification generally renders them both more 
intense and more numerous. Such is the case with the 
love of wealth, the love of power, the love of sensual 
pleasure, or with any of the others. 

3. These desires, however, may be gratified in such a 
manner as not to interfere with the right which every 
other man has over his own means of happiness. Thus, 
I may gratify my love of wealth by industry and fru- 
gality, while I conduct myself towards every other man 
with entire honest3\ I may gratify my love of science, 
without diminishing in any respect the means of knowl- 
edge possessed by another. And, on the other hand, 
I am created with the physical power to gratify my 
desires in such a manner as to interfere with the right 
which another has over the means of happiness which 
God has given liim. Thus, I have a physical power to 
gratify my love of wealth by stealing tlie property of 

17 



194 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

another, as well as to gratify it by earning property for 
myself. I have, by the gift of speech, the physical 
power to ruin the reputation of another for the sake of 
gratifying my own love of approbation. I have tlie 
physical power to murder a man for the sake of using 
his body to gratify my love of anatomical knowledge. 
And so of a thousand cases. 

4. And hence we see that the relation in which hu- 
man beings stand to each other is the following : Every 
individual is created with a desire to use the means of 
happiness which God has given him in such manner 
as he thinks will best promote that happiness ; and of 
tliis manner he is the sole judge. Every individual is 
endowed with the same desires, which he may gratify 
in such manner as will not interfere with his neigh- 
bor's means of happiness ; but each individual has also 
i\\Q physical power of so gratifying his desires as will 
interfere witli the means of happiness which God has 
granted to his neighbor. 

5. From this relation it is manifest that every man 
is under obligation to pursue his own happiness in such 
manner only as will leave his neighbor in the undis- 
turbed exercise of that common right which the Crea- 
tor has equally conferred upon both ; that is, to restrain 
his physical power of gratifying his desires within such 
limits that he shall interfere with the rights of no ctlier 
being: because in no other manner can the evident 
design of the Creator — the common happiness of all 
— be promoted. 

That this is the law of our being may be shown from 
other considerations : 

1. By violating it, the happiness of the aggressor is 
not increased, while that of the sufferer is diminished ; 
wliile by obeying it, the greatest amount' of happiness 
of which our condition is susceptible is secured : be- 
cause, by obeying it, every one derives the greatest 
possible advantage from the gifts bestowed upon him by 
the Creator. 

2. Suppose any other rule of obligation ; that is, 
that a man is not under obligation to observe witlr this 



THE DUTY OF RECIPROCITY. 195 

exactitude the rights of his neighbor. Where shall the 
limit be fixed ? If violation be allowed in a small 
degree, why not in a great degree ? and if he may 
interfere with one right, why not with all ? And, as 
all men come under the same law, this principle would 
lead to the same absurdity as that of which we have 
before spoken ; that is, it would abolish the very idea 
of right ; and, as every one has an equal liberty of vio- 
lation, would surrender the whole race to the dominion 
of unrestrained desire. 

3. If it be said that one class of men is not under 
the obligation to observe this rule in its conduct towards 
another class of men, then it will be necessary to show 
that the second class are not men, that is, human 
beings ; for these principles apply to men as men : and 
the simple fact that a being is a man, places him 
within the reach of these obligations, and of their pro- 
tection. Nay more, suppose the inferior class of beings 
were not truly men; if they were intelligent moral 
agents, I suppose that we slioidd be under the same 
obligation to conduct ourselves towards them upon the 
prmciple of reciprocity. I see no reason why an angel 
would have a right, by vu-tue of his superior nature, to 
interfere with the means of happiness which God has 
conferred upon man. By parity of reasoning, there- 
fore, superiority of rank would give to man no such 
power over an inferior species of moral and intelligent 
beings. 

And, lastly, if it be true that the Creator has given 
to every separate individual co;itrol over those means 
of happiness which he has bestowed upon him, then the 
simple question is. Which is of the higher authority, 
this grant of tlie Creator, or the selfish desires and pas- 
sions of the creature ? for these are really the notions 
which are brought into collision. That is to say, ought 
the grant of God and the will of God to limit my 
desires ; or ought my desires to vitiate the grant, and 
set at defiance the will of God ? On this question a 
moral and mtelhgent creature can entertain but one 
opinion. 



196 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

Secondly. Let us examine the teacliing of tUe lioly 
Scriptures on this subject. 

The precept in the Bible is in these words : " Thou 
shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." 

Two questions are here to be considered : First, To 
whom does this command apply ? or, in other words, 
Who is my neighbor ? and, secondly, What is implied 
in the precept ? 

1. The first of these questions is answered by our 
Saviour himself, in the parable of the Good Samaritan. 
(Luke X. 25-37.) He there teaches us that we are to 
consider as our neighbor, not our kinsman or our fellow- 
citizen, or those to whom we are bound by the reception 
of previous kindness, but* the stranger, the alien, the 
hereditary national enemy ; that is, man as man : any 
human being to whom we may in any manner do good. 
Every man is our neighbor^ and therefore we are under 
obligation to love every man as ourselves. 

2. What is the import of the command to love such 
a one as ourselves. 

The very lowest meaning that we can assign to this 
precept is as follows. I have already stated that God 
has bestowed upon every man such means of happiness 
as, in his own sovereign pleasure, he saw fit ; and that 
he has given to every man an equal right to use those 
means of happiness as each one supposes will best pro- 
mote his own well-being. Besides this, every one has 
an instinctive desire thus to use them. He cannot be 
happy unless this desire be gratified, and he is pain- 
fully conscious of injury if this right be interfered 
with. In this manner he loves himself. Now, in the 
same manner he is commanded to love his neighbor. 
That is, he is by this precept obliged to have the same 
desire that his neighbor should enjoy, unmolested, the 
control over whatever God has bestowed upon him, as 
he has to enjoy, unmolested, the same control himself; 
and to feel the same consciousness of injury when an- 
other man's rights are invaded, as when his own rights 
are invaded. With these sentiments, he would be just 
as unwilling to violate the rights of anotlier, as \w 



THE DUTY OF RECIPEOCITY. 197 

^oiild be to suffer a violation of his o^ii. That this 
view of the subject exhausts the command, we by no 
means assert ; but we think it evident that the lan- 
guage is capable of a 7io less comprehensive meaning. 

The same precept is expressed in other places, under 
another form of language : " All things whatsoever ye 
would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto 
them : for this is the law and the prophets " (Matthew 
vii. 12). 

The words here, as in the former case, are used to 
denote a principle of universal obligation : " All tilings 
whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do 
ye even so unto them." 

The precept itself teaches us to estimate the rights of 
others by the consciousness of mdividual right in our 
own bosoms. Would we wish to know how delicate a 
regard we are bound to entertain towards the control 
which God has given to others over the means of hap- 
piness which he has granted to them, let us decide the 
question by asking how tender and delicate is the re- 
gard which we would wish them to entertain towards 
us under similar circumstances. The decision of the 
one question will always be the decision of the other. 
And this precept goes a step further. It renders it 
obligatory on every man to commence such a course of 
conduct, irrespectively of whatever may be the con- 
duct of others to himself. It forbids us to demand more 
than the law of reciprocity allows ; it commands us 
always to render it ; and, still more, if we complain to 
another of his violation of the law, it renders it imper- 
ative on us, while we urge upon him a change of con- 
duct, to commence by setting him the example. And 
it really, if carried out to the utmost, would preclude 
our claim upon him, until we had ourselves first mani- 
fested towards him the very disposition w^hich we de- 
mand towards ourselves. The moral beauty of this 
precept will be at once seen by any one who will take 
the trouble honestly to generalize it. He will imme- 
diately perceive that it would always avert injury at 
tlie very outset : and, by rendering both parties more 
17* 



198 PEACTICAL ETHICS. 

virtuous, would tend directly to banish injury, violence^ 
and wrong from the earth. 

Thirdly. This law of universal reciprocity applies 
with the same force to communities as to individuals. 

Communities are composed of individuals, and can 
have, in respect to each other ^ no other rights than those 
of the individuals who constitute them. If it be wrong 
for one man to injure another man, it must be equally 
wrong for two men to injure two other men ; and so 
of any other number. And, moreover, the grant of 
the Creator is, in both cases, under the same circum- 
stances. God has bestowed upon nations physical and 
intellectual advantages, in every possible degree of 
diversity. But he has granted to them all an equal 
right to use those advantages in such manner as each 
one may suppose will best conduce to the promotion of 
his own happiness. 

Hence it will follow — 

1. That the precept applies as universally to nations 
as to individuals. Whenever societies of men treat with 
each other, — whether powerful with weak, or polite 
with rude, civilized with savage, or intelligent with ig- 
norant ; whether friends with friends, or enemies with 
enemies, — all are bound by the law of reciprocity to 
love each other as themselves, and to do unto others 
in all things whatsoever they would desire others to 
do unto them. 

2. And hence, also, the precept itself is as obligatory 
upon nations as upon individuals. Every nation is 
bound to exhibit as sensitive a regard for the preserva- 
tion inviolate of the rights of another nation, as it 
exhibits for the preservation inviolate of its own rights. 
And still more, every nation is under the same obligar 
tion as every individual to measure the respect and 
moderation which it displays to otheis by the respect 
and moderation which it demands for itself ; and is 
also, if it complain of violation of right, to set the first 
example of entire and perfect reciprocity and fidelity 
Were this course pursued by individuals and nations, 
the causes of collision would manifestly cease, and the 




THE DUTY OF RECIPR 

appeal to arms would soon be remei 
of the strange infatuations of by-gc 
blood-thirsty ages. Chicanery, intrign^ 
ing are as wicked and as disgraceful in the in ten 
of nations and societies as in that of indiyiduals ; and 
the tool of a nation or of a party is as truly contemp- 
tible as the tool of an individual. The only distinctioi 
which I perceive is, that in the one case the instrument 
of dishonesty is ashamed of his act, and dare not wear 
the badge of his infamy ; while, in the other case, even 
the ambiguous virtue of shame has been lost, and the 
man glories in the brand wlxich marks him for a villian 



CLASSIFICATION OF THE DUTIES ARISING FROM THE LAW OF 
EECIPEOCITY. 

The duties of reciprocity may be divided into three 
classes ; 

Class 1. Duties to men, as men. 

Class 2. Duties aeising from the constitution of the 

SEXES. 

Class 3. Duties arising from the constitution of civil 

SOCIETY. 

Class 1. Duties to men, as men. 
This includes Justice and Veracity. 
I. Justice, as it regards, 1. Liberty. 

2. Property. 

3. Character. 

4. Reputation. 
n. Veracity. 1. Of the past and present. 

2. Of the future. 

Class 2. Duties arising from the constitution of thb 

SEXES. 

Including, 1. General duty of chastity. 

2. The law of marriage. 

3. The duties and rights of parents. 

4. The duties and rights of children. 



200 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

Class 3. Duties arising from the constitution Off 
CIVIL society. 

1. The nature of civil society. 

2. The mode in which the authority of civil society 

is maintained. 

3. Of forms of government. 

4. Duties of magistrates. J 
6. Duties of citizens. " 



• CLASS I. 

DUTIES TO IVIEN AS MEN. 

JUSTICE AKD VERACITY. 

JUSTICE. 

JiSTiCB, when used in a judicial sense, siguifies that 
temper of mind which disposes a man to administer 
rewards and punishments according to tlie character 
and actions of the object. 

It is also used to designate the act by which this 
administration is effected. Thus we speak of a judge 
who administers justice. 

In the present case, however, it is used in a more 
extensive signification. It is here intended to designate 
that temper of mind which disposes us to leave every 
other being in the unmolested enjoyment of those means 
of happiness bestowed upon him by his Creator. It is 
also frequently used for the exhibition of this conduct 
in outward act. Thus, when a man manifests a proper 
respect for the rights of others, we say he acts justly ; 
when he m any manner violates these rights, we say 
he acts unjustly. 

The most important means of happiness whicb God 
has placed in the power of the individual, are, first, 
His own persox ; second. Property ; third, Character ; 
fourth, Reputatiox. 



CHAPTEE I. 

PERSONAL LIBERTY. 
SE G'TION I, 

OF THE NATURE OF PERSONAL LIBERT r. 

Every human being is, by his constitution, a sepa- 
rate, distinct, and complete system, adapted to all tho 
purposes of self-government, and responsible, separately, 
to God for the manner in which his powers are employed. 
Thus, every individual possesses a body, by which he is 
connected with the physical universe, and by which that 
universe is modified for the supply of his wants ; an 
understanding, by which truth is discovered, and by 
which means are adapted to their appropriate ends ; 
passions and desires, by which he is excited to action, 
and in the gratification of which his happiness consists ; 
conscience, to point out the limit within which these 
desires may be rightfully gratified ; and a will, which 
determines him to action. The possession of these is 
necessary to a human nature, and it also renders every 
being so constituted a distinct and independent indi- 
vidual. He may need society, but every one needs it 
equally with every other one ; and hence all enter into 
it upon terms of strict and evident reciprocity. If the 
individual use these powers according to the laws im- 
posed by his Creator, his Creator holds him in this 
respect guiltless. If he use them in such manner as 
not to interfere with the use of the same powers which 
God has bestowed upon his neighbor, he is, as it respects 
his neighbor, whether that neighbor be an individual or 



NATURE OF PERSONAL LIBERTY. 203 

the community, to be held guiltless. So long as he 
uses them within this limit, he has a right, so far as his 
fellow-men are concerned, to use them in the most un- 
limited sense, suo arbitrio, at his own discretion. His 
will is his sufficient and ultimate reason. He need 
assign no other reason for his conduct than his own 
free choice. Within this limit he is still responsible to 
God ; but within this limit he is not responsible to man^ 
nor is man responsible for him. In other words, every 

MAN HAS A RIGHT TO HBISELF. 

1. Thus, a man has an entire right to use his own 
body as he will, provided he do not so use it as to inter- 
fere with the rights of his neighbor. He may go where 
he will, and stay where he please ; he may work, or be 
idle ; he may pursue one occupation, or another, or no 
occupation at all ; and it is the concern of no one else, 
if he leave inviolate the rights of every one else ; that 
is, if he leave every one else in the undisturbed enjoy- 
ment of those means of happiness bestowed upon him 
by the Creator. 

It seems almost tiifling to argue a point which is, in 
its nature, so evident, upon inspection. If, -however, 
any additional proof be required, the following consid- 
erations will readily suggest themselves. It is asserted 
that every individual has an equal and ultimate right 
with every other individual to the use of his body* his 
mind, and all the other means of happiness with which 
God has endowed him. But suppose it otherwise. 
Suppose that one individual has a right to the body or 
mind or means of happiness of another. That is, sup- 
pose that A has a right to use the body of B according 
to his, that is, A's ivilL Now, if this be true, it is true 
universally ; hence A has the control over the body of 
B, and B has control over the body of C, C of that of 
D, etc., and Z again over the body of A ; that is, every 
separate will has the right of control over some other 
body or intellect besides its own, and has no right of 
control over its own body or intellect. Whether such 
is the constitution of human nature, or, if it be not, 
whether it would be an improvement upon the present 
constiliition, may easily be decided. 



2v04 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

And if it be said that to control one man's body by 
another man's will is impossible, for that every man 
acts as he will, since he cannot do anything unless he 
will do it, it may be answered that the term ivill is used 
here in a different sense from that intended in the pre- 
ceding paragraph. Every one must see that a man 
who, out of the various ways of employing his body, pet 
before him by his Creator^ chooses that which he pre- 
fers, is in a very different condition from him who is 
debarred from all choice, excepting that he may do 
what his fellow-man appoints, or else must suffer what 
his fellow-man chooses to inflict. Now, the true condi- 
tion of a human being is that in which his will is in- 
fluenced by no other circumstances than those which 
arise from the constitution under which his Creator has 
placed him. And he who for his own pleasure places 
his fellow-man under any other conditions of existence, 
is guilty of the most odious tyranny, and seems to me 
to arrogate to himself the authority of the Most High 
God. 

But, it may be said, that in this case the individual 
may become chargeable to the community. To this I 
answer, not unless the community assume the charge. 
If every man be left to himself, but only is obliged to re- 
spect the rights of others ; if he do not labor, a remedy is 
provided in the laws of the system, — he will very soon 
starve ; and if he prefer starvation to labor, he has no 
one to blame but himself. While the law of reciprocity 
frees him from the control of society, it discharges soci- 
ety from any responsibility for the result of his actions 
upon himself. I know that society sometimes under- 
takes to support the indigent and helpless, and to re- 
lieve men in extreme necessity. This, however, is a 
conventional arrangement, into which men who choose 
have a right to enter ; and, having entered into it, they 
are bound by its provisions. 

2. The same reniarks apply ^o the use of the intellect. 

If the preceding observations are just, it will follow 
that every man, within the limit before suggested, has 
a right to use his intellect as he will. He may investi- 



XATCRE OF PERSONAL LIBERTY. 205 

gate whatever subjects he will, and in what manner 
soever he will, and may come to such conclusions as 
his investigations may teach, and may publish those 
conclusions to tliose who are willing to hear them, pro- 
vided he interfere with the happiness of no other human 
being. The denial of this right would lead to the same 
absurdities as in the former case. 

If it be said that the individual may, by so doing, 
involve himself in error, and thus diminish his own 
happiness, the answer is at hand, namely : for this the 
constitution of things provides its appropriate and ade- 
quate punishment. He who imbibes error, suffers in 
his own person the consequences of error, which are 
misfortune and loss of respect. And besides, as for his 
happiness society is not in this case responsible, there 
can be no reason, derived from the consideration of his 
happiness^ why society should interfere with the free 
use of this mstrument of happiness which the Creator 
has intrusted solely to the individual himself. 

But, it may be asked, Has not society a right to 
oblige men to acquire a certain amount of intellectual 
cultivation ? I answer, men have a right to form a 
society upon such conditions as they please, subject 
tlways to the social laws under which God has placed 
us ; and so to form it that it shall be necessary, in order 
to enjoy its privileges, for the individual to possess a 
certain amount of knowledge. Having formed such a 
society, every one is bound by its provisions, so long as 
he remains a member of it ; and the enforcing of its 
provisions upon the individual is no more than obliging 
him to do what he, for a sufficient consideration, volun- 
tarily contracted to do. And society may rightfully 
enforce this provision in either of two ways : it may 
either withhold from every man who neglects to acquire 
this knowledge the benefits of citizenship, or else it may 
grant these benefits to every one, and oblige every one 
to possess the assigned amount of knowledge. In this 
case there is no violation of reciprocity ; for the same 
requirements are made of all, and every one receives 
bis full equivalent, in the results of the same law upon 
18 



206 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

others. More than this the individual could not justly 
require. He could not justly demand to be admitted 
to rights which presuppose certain intellectual attain- 
ments, and which can only be, with safety to others, 
enjoyed by those who have made these attainments, 
unless he be willing to conform to the condition neces- 
sary to that enjoyment. And, moreover, the elements 
of a common education are necessary to every one, and 
they must be acquired before the human being arrives 
at manhood. If a parent is either unable or unwilling 
to provide such instruction for his child, society may 
justly interpose, and furnish for the child that educa- 
tion of which the selfishness of the parent would deprive 
it. 

3. I have thus far considered man only in his relations 
to the present life. So far as I have gone, I have en- 
deavored to show that, provided the individual interfere 
not with the rights of others, he has a right to use his 
own body and mind as he thinks will best promote his 
own happiness ; that is, as he will. But if he have this 
right, within these limits, to pursue his present happi- 
ness^ how much more incontrovertible must be his right 
to use his body and mind in such manner as he sup- 
poses will best promote his eternal happiness ! And 
besides, if, for the sake of his own happiness, he have a 
right to the unmolested enjoyment of whatever God has 
given him, how much more is he entitled to the same 
unmolested enjoyment for the sake of obeying God, and 
fulfilling the highest obligation of which he is suscept- 
ible ! 

We say, then, that every man, provided he does not 
interfere with the rights of his neighbor, has a right, so 
far as his neighbor is concerned, to worship God, or not 
to worship him ; and to worship him in any manner 
that he will ; and that for the abuse of this liberty he 
is accountable only to God. 

If it be said that by so doing a man may ruin his own 
soul, the answer is obvious : for this ruin the ijidividua] 
himself, and not society, is responsible. And, more- 
over, as religion consists in the temper of heart, whicb 



NATURE OF PERSONAL LIBERTY. 207 

force cannot aifect, and not in external observance, 
vv^liicli is all that force can aifect, no application of force 
can change our relations to God, or prevent the ruin in 
question. All application of force must, then, be gra- 
tuitous mischief. 

To sum up what has been said : All men are created 
frith an equal right to employ their faculties of body or 
of mind in such manner as will promote their own 
happiness either here or hereafter ; or, which is the 
same thing, every man has a right to use his own pow- 
ers of body or of mind in such manner as he will, pro- 
vided he do not use them in such manner as to interfere 
with the rights of his neighbor. 

The exceptions to this law are easily defined. 

1. The first exception is in the case of infancy. 

By the law of nature, a parent is under obligation to 
support his child, and is responsible for his actions. 
He has, therefore, a right to control the actions of the 
child so long as this responsibility exists. He is under 
obligation to render that child a suitable member of 
the community ; and this obligation he could not dis- 
charge unless the physical and intellectual liberty of 
the child were placed within his power. 

2. As the parent has supported the child during 
infancy, he has, probably, by the law of nature, a right 
to his services during youth, or for so long a period as 
may be sufficient to insure an adequate remuneration. 
When, however, this remuneration is received, the right 
of the parent over the child ceases forever. 

3. This right he may, if he see fit, transfer to another, 
as in the case of apprenticeship. But he can transfer 
the right for no longer time than he holds it. He can, 
tlierefore, negotiate it away for no period beyond that 
of the child's minority. 

4. A man may transfer his right over his own labor 
for a limited time, and for a satisfactory equivalent 
But this transfer proceeds upon the principle that the 
original right vests in himself, and it is therefore no 
violation of that right. He has, however, no right to 
transfer the services of any other person except his 



208 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

child ; nor of his child, except under the limitations 
above specified. 

In strict accordance with these remarks is the mem« 
orable sentence in the commencement of the Declara- 
tion of Independence, " We hold these trnths to be 
self-evident : that all men are created equal ; that they 
are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable 
rights ; that among these are life, liberty, and the pur- 
suit of happiness." That the equality here spoken of 
is not equality in the means of happiness^ but in the 
right to use them as we will, is too evident to need illus- 
tration. 

Personal liberty may be violated in two ways : 1. By 
the individual ; 2. By society. 



SECTION II. 

OF THE VIOLATION OF PERSONAL LIBERTY BY THE INDIVIDUAL.. 

The most common violation of personal liberty by 
the individual is that which exists in the case of domes 
tic slavery. 

Domestic slavery can only be justified upon one of 
the two following assumptions : either, 1st, that slav- 
ery is authorized by a general law, under which human 
beings "are constituted ; or, 2d, that, in some manner, 
it has been signified to us by the Creator that one 
portion of the human race is made to be the slaves of 
the other portion. 

Let us proceed and examine these assumptions in 
detail. 

I. It is affirmed that one of the laws under which 
we have been created is, that one human being has the 
right to reduce another human being to the condition 
called slavery. The person who is reduced from free- 
dom to this condition, has henceforth no right over 
either his body or mind. He can neither go nor stay 



VIOLATION OF PERSONAL LIBERTY. 209 

where he chooses. He can neither lahor nor rest for his 
own profit or pleasure, but must in both obey the will 
of another. He receives no wages, for he is disabled 
from holding any property. His oath can never be taken 
in evidence. He can form no contract. He cannot 
marry; and his only domestic relation is that of concu- 
binage, subject to the will of another. He has no right 
over his own children ; but they and their parents may 
at any moment be separated forever from each other, 
at the will of him who has thus subjected them. The 
dominant party is at liberty to use the subjected party 
in such manner as may best gratify his own appetites 
and will. He may use the females as concubines ;* his 
children by them are his slaves, and are, like their 
mother, chattels, to be sold to the highest bidder. 
Resistance to such authority is punishable at the sole 
will of the owner, and, if he please, with instant death. 

It may be supposed that a human being, reduced to 
this condition, if his mind were permitted by reading 
and reflection to estimate his condition, must be dis- 
satisfied with it. Hence the power over the body once 
conceded, gives to the dominant party the right over the 
mind of the other party. He may forbid the slave to 
learn to read, or do anything whatever for his own im- 
provement. He is best suited to his condition when he 
is merely a working animal ; and anything which would 
render him less valuable in this respect may innocently 
be prohibited. 

The knowledge of his relations to God and man, as 
they are made known in the Scriptures, would tend to 
the same result as intellectual cultivation. Nay, more ; 
if there be a God, the authority of the dominant party 
cannot be absolute. He who has been enslaved would 
learn that he must obey God rather than man; and 
hence, in many cases, must refuse to obey the com- 
mands of him who is called his master. Hence the 
dominant party may forbid the ether to attain to the 
knowledge of the Scriptures, or to receive religious 
instruction, only in such portions or in such manner 
as he may appoint ; or, if he see fit, lie may forbid it 
18* 



210 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

altogetlior. If, in obedience to what he considers to be 
the will of God, the subject party refuse to obey, he 
may be punished with stripes at the will of the other, 
or, it may be, with death. In a word, it has been de- 
cided by an eminent judge, in the highest tribunal of 
a slaveholdiiig state, that a colored man possesses no 
right which a white man is under obligation to respect. 

The manner in which the one party obtains this ex- 
traordinary power over the other party deserves to be 
remarked. Men go to Africa, and excite wars between 
the native tribes. A village is sacked and burned. The 
aged and children, being useless, are slain. The able- 
bodied, both men and women, are seized, driven to the 
coast, and sold to the slave-trader. They are then 
shipped, under circumstances of the most atrocious 
cruelty, and transported to a port in Christendom. As 
many as survive the horrors of the passage are sold by 
the slave-dealer to the citizens of a Christian country, 
and all the right which he acquired over them by the 
burning of their village, and murdering their dearest 
relatives, is transferred to the purchaser. And this 
power is supposed to continue to the remotest genera- 
tions. The offspring of a slave mother is in all re- 
spects a slave, though he or she be the child of a white 
man ; nay, even of its master. And this continues in- 
definitely, even though, by licentiousness, it comes to 
pass that the slave is as white as his owner : and no 
matter how small a portion of negro blood may be in 
his veins, he remains under the inexorable slave law. 
It is still a crime, punishable by the severest penalty, to 
teach him to read even the Word of God : he can own 
no property, earn for himself no wages, give no evi- 
dence, have no right in his own children, and is not 
and cannot be the husband of their mother. 

It is in vain to say that these powers are not always 
exercised. Of course they are not, nor are the powers 
we possess over domestic animals always used to the 
utmost. But we prove from the laws on the statute 
book that they are all conceded, and, what is more, 
they are in very many cases exercised ; and the legaJ 



VIOLATION OF PERSONAL LIBERT r. 211 

right to exercise them stands unquestioned ; and the 
attempt to effect any modification of the shive hiws is 
universally resisted as an injurious and impertinent 
encroachment on the rights of the slave-owner. 

Now, this simple statement of the facts would seem 
sufficient to teach us that such an institution cannot 
be in obedience to the will of the Creator — most holy, 
most just, and most merciful. We all believe that God 
governs the universe by moral laws, and that moral 
laws, in his estimation, take precedence of all others. 
But, on the principle on which domestic slavery is 
founded, physical force takes the precedence of moral 
law. It supposes that a man, by physical force, can 
reduce another to a condition in which he may act 
towards him in a manner which would be wrono: had 
not physical force been exerted. And, again, as the 
parties may change places by force, it follows that then 
the moral law must be entirely reversed. The sub- 
jected party becomes dominant ; and he, again, may do 
the reverse of what he had a right to do before the 
change ; and the once dominant party, now having be- 
come subject, must submit to the same treatment which 
it before ministered to the other. How such an insti- 
tution can consist with the moral government of a holy 
God, let any man judge. 

But this is not all. Can it be supposed that a God 
of infinite love would establish, as the law for a race 
of intelligent creatures, a rule which can tend only to 
universal and endless war ? Were such the law of 
humanity, our natural condition would be that of an 
internecine strife for superiority, both in nations and 
individuals, — every man striving to enslave his brother, 
and every nation to subdue to slavery its neighbor, — 
and the parties suhiued ever striving to regain what 
they had lost. How it is possible to i econcile such a 
law with the character of the all-loving God, I cannot 
conceive. 

We arrive at the same conclusions by an ol)serva- 
tion of the moral and economical results of slavery. 

Its effects must be disastrous on the morals of both 



212 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

parties. By presenting objects on whom passion may 
be satiated without resistance and without redress, it 
tends to cultivate in the one party, pride, anger, cruelty, 
selfishness, and licentiousness. By accustoming tlie 
other party to submit entirely to the will of another, it 
tends to abolish in him all moral distinctions, and thus 
fosters in him lying, hypocrisy, dishonesty, and a will- 
ingness to yield himself up to gratify the appetites of 
another. That in all slaveholding countries there are 
exceptions to this remark, and that in some men moral 
principle may limit the eifect of these tendencies, may 
be gladly admitted ; yet, that such is the tendency of the 
system as it is, we think no reasonable person can hes- 
itate to allow. Thomas Jefferson, himself a slaveholder, 
mentions them as the evident tendencies of slavery. 

The effects of slavery upon national wealth are obvious. 

Nations can increase in wealth only by industry and 
frugality. By labor we increase production, and by 
economy we are enabled to add the profits of the pres- 
ent year to those of the past. The greater and more 
universal the industry and economy of a nation, the 
more rapid will be its progress in the accumulation of 
wealth, and all the means of physical happiness. 

On the contrary, slavery, instead of imposing upon all 
the necessity of labor, restricts the number of laborers 
within the smallest possible limit, by treating labor as 
if it were disgraceful. 

It takes from this diminished company of laborers 
the natural stimulus to labor, — namely, the desire in man 
to improve his condition, — and substitutes for it that mo- 
tive which is the least operative and the least constant, 
— the fear of punishment, without the consciousness of 
moral delinquency. 

It removes from both parties the disposition and the 
motives to frugality. Neither the one party learns fru- 
gality from the necessity of labor, nor the other from 
the benefits it confers : and hence, when one party 
wastes from ignorance, and the other because he can 
have no motive to economy, capital must accumulate 
but slowly, if indeed it accumulate at all. 



VIOLATIOX OF TERSONAL LIBERTY. 213 

Tluit such are the tendencies of slavery is manifest 
from observation. No country not of great fertility can 
long sustain a slave population. Soils even of more 
than ordinary fertility cannot sustam it long after their 
first fertility has been exhausted. Some of tlie most 
favored districts of this country, under the system of 
slavery, have become steadily less instead of Tucre pro- 
ductive ; and hence slavery is continually migrating 
from the older settlements to those new and untitled 
regions, where the accumulated fertility of centuries of 
vegetation has formed a soil whose productiveness may 
for a while sustain an institution at variance with the 
laws under which we have been created. Many of the 
free and the slave-holding states were peopled about the 
same time. The slave-holding states possessed every 
advantage of soil and climate over their neighbors ; 
and yet the accumulation of capital, the progress of the 
people in general intelligence, as well as the improve- 
ment of the capabilities of the soil, have been greatly 
in favor of the latter. If any one' doubt whether this 
difference has been owing to the use by one party of 
slave labor, let him ask himself what would have l3een 
the condition of the slave-holding states at this mo- 
ment if they had been inhabited from the beginning 
by an industrious yeomanry ; each individual owning 
his own land, and each one tilling it with the labor of 
his own hands. 

These considerations seem sufQciently to indicate to 
us the will of the Creator. It could not have been his 
intention to give to man such power over his brother. 

We may briefly look upon the subject from another 
point of view. 

1. We presume every man holds himself amenablo 
to moral law. I would, then, ask, What right can I ac- 
quire over another by burning his house and murder- 
ing his wife and cliildren ? Yet it is by this act, or acts 
like it, that the condition of a man is changed from that 
of a freeman to that of a slave. Such an act merits the 
severest punishment from God and man, instead of 
conferring upon the perpetrator the semblance of ria'hr 



214 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

OTQc liis victim. When the captor sells his captive to 
another, he has no right which he can transfer. The 
buyer can have no other right than the captor ; and the 
captor having none, the buyer must be in the same con- 
dition. And if this be true of the captive himself, how 
much more must it be true of his wife and children. 
Every man has a right to liimself; and neither the 
burning of a man's house, the murder of his family, 
nor the payment of money to the murderer, can in the 
least degree invalidate this right. 

2. If this be the law of humanity, it is the law for every 
man ; therefore every man may innocently exercise it. 
Every man, therefore, who by force can reduce his 
brother to this condition, may do it rightfully. Any 
nation may, in like manner, reduce another nation to 
bondage. I see not why this should not necessarily 
follow. 

3. This being the law of humanity, it applies equally 
to the slave as to any other man. He not only has a 
right to freedom, if he can regain it by force, but he 
has the right, if he can gain it by force, to change places 
with his master, and make the master his slave. And 
he may do it by the same means. He was reduced 
to this condition by the burning of his house and the 
murder of his relatives ; he has an equal right to re- 
duce any other man to this condition by the same 
means. So far as I perceive, all these consequences 
flow from supposing this to be a law of humanity. We 
therefore must conclude that no such law exists, or 
could ever have been given to his creatures by a holy 
and all-loving Creator. 

II. But, in the second place, it may be asserted that 
this is not a universal law, affecting equally every indi- 
vidual ; but that it is special, and applies only to a por- 
tion of the race : that is, that to one portion has been 
given the right to reduce another portion to the condi 
tion of slavery. This assertion has been sustained by 
several considerations. 

1. It has been said that negroes — the persons gener- 
ally enslaved — are not men. It is granted that nation? 



VIOLATION OF PERSONAL LIBERTY. 215 

may be red, brown, olive, or tawny and be men ; but 
that if black, tlicy are not men. It is allowed that they 
may become skilful in any business ; that they have 
immortal souls, and may become exemplary disciples 
of Christ ; but that, having complexions of this color, 
they are not men. The simple statement of tliis rea- 
soning renders any argument on the case unnecessary. 

2. It is said that negroes are, as a class, degraded 
men ; stupid, incapable of education, and fit only for the 
simplest forms of labor ; and therefore we may rightfully 
reduce them to the condition of slavery. 

To this it may be answered — 

1. We deny the assertion on which this reasoning is 
founded. The Africans are on the same level as other 
barbarous nations, and are equally capable of civiliza- 
tion. When under proper influences, they have attained 
to civilization as readily as other men. 

2. If they are thus stupid and incapable of civiliza- 
tion, why, in all the slave states, is it made a crime to 
attempt to teach them the rudiments of education ? 
This assertion can never be made with any effect until 
they have been allowed the same opportunities of culti- 
vation as other men, and that then they, as a class, have 
shown themselves incapable of improvement. 

3. But, suppose the assertion to be true, it by no 
means justifies the inference that is drawn from it. 
Suppose it to be true, by what right could a man of 
ever so eminent intelligence reduce to slavery his neigh- 
bor who is ignorant, dull of apprehension, and apparently 
incapable of high cultivation ? By what right can a 
civilized nation reduce a barbarous nation to slavery ? 
Could we rightfully have reduced the Sandwich Islanders 
to slavery, instead of sending missionaries and teachers 
to raise them to the level of civilized and Christian 
communities, such as they really are now ? Could we 
rightfully reduce to slavery the ignorant foreigners 
who are arriving daily by thousands on our shores, and 
who are commonly in nothing superior to the xVfricans 
now among us ? Is it not our. duty, as men and as Chris- 
tians, to elevate the unfortunate, the ignorant, and tlio 



216 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

vicious to the same level as ourselves ? Did the Sa- 
maritan make a slave of the wounded and helpless trav- 
eller ? And shall we burn the house of a simple peasant, 
murder his family, and claim a right by this crime to 
consign him and his posterity to interminable bondage ? 
Our own ancestors were once as far below the civiliza- 
tion of Rome as the Africans are below our own. 
Nay, they were exposed for sale in the slave markets of 
the imperial city. Christianity redeemed them from 
captivity, and carried to their homes the benefits of 
knowledge and the blessings of religion, thus sowing 
the seeds of which the eminence of Great Britain is 
now the legitimate fruit. Had we not better imitate 
their example, instead of sending men to incite these 
ignorant people to murder and rapine, and consigning 
the survivors to slavery, from the horrors of which there 
is no hope of escape ? 

And again. Suppose Africans to be of a rank inferioi 
in intelligence to ourselves, what authority over them 
does this difference confer upon us ? The various races 
of men may differ in natural endowment. Are they 
all but one created to be the slaves of the most highly 
endowed nation ? Or, if only some are created to be the 
slaves of the rest, where is the line to be drawn, on the 
one side of which are to be the masters, and on the 
other the slaves ? It is said that, under all their pres- 
ent disadvantages, slaves are frequently as capable as 
their masters of managing an important plantation. 
And, besides, we suppose that there exist spiritual be- 
ings, possessed of powers vastly superior to ours. Does 
this superiority confer upon them any right to diminish 
the means of happiness which God has conferred upon 
us ? Great and powerful as they are, are they not min- 
istering spirits sent forth to minister to those who are 
heirs of salvation? If these glorious beings are our 
ministers^ though in rank we be so far below them, least 
of all could we suppose them to have authority to di- 
minish o\vc happiness for the sake of increasing their 
own 

n. But, lastly, it has been said that slavery has been 



TIOLATIOX OF PERSONAL LTBERTT. 217 

autliorizecl by tlie holy Scriptures. This authority is 
supposed to be conferred by the Word of God, and from 
that we have a right to reduce our fellow-men to this 
condition. 

1. It is said that the African race was. immediately 
after the flood, condemned to slavery by Noah ; that 
this malediction was a prophecy ; and that we are 
authorized, nay, it is sometimes said, commanded, to 
accomplish its fuKilment. 

Now, with regard to this reason for slavery, we remark, 
in the first place, that it proceeds upon a total miscon- 
ception of the object of prophecy. A prophecy informs 
us of some event which shall occur in the future, for 
the purpose of teaching us the omniscience of God. 
By the prophet Isaiah, God appeals to prophecy in 
various cases for this very purpose. The foretelling of 
a future event confers upon no man the authority to 
take its fulfilment into his own hands; nor is the proph- 
ecy that a deed will be done, any authority for the doing 
of it. No event was ever so distinctly foretold as the 
crucifixion of Christ, and yet the guilt of his murder- 
ers has always been considered as without parallel. 
The Apostle Peter declares, " Him, being delivered by 
the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God, ye 
have taken and with icicked hands have crucified and 
slain." The part which Judas should take in this 
transaction is a matter of prophecy ; and yet we are told, 
^' Good had it been for that man if he had never been 
born." 

But let us inquii'e. Was the utterance of Noah a 
prophecij? Was it anything more than the wish of 
an angry man ? I do not remember that Noah is ever 
in the Scriptures referred to as a prophet. Let us, 
however, turn to the passage. It is contained in Gene- 
sis ix. 20-25 : " And Noah planted a vineyard ; and he 
drank of the wine, and was drunken ; and he was un- 
covered in his tent. And Ham, the father of Canaan, 
saw the nakedness of his father, and told his two 
brethren without. And Shem and Japheth took a gar- 
ment, and laid it upon their shoulders, and went back- 
19 



218 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

wards, and covei'ed the nakedness of theii' father. And 
Noah aivoke from his wine, and knew what his younger 
son had done unto him : and he said, Cursed be Canaan; 
a servant of servants shall he be unto his brethren." 
This curse is afterwards twice repeated, saying that 
Canaan should be the servant of both Shem and Japheth. 
Now, concerning this malediction, we remark, first : 

1. The words in question were uttered by a man just 
awaking out of a drunken sleep. The Holy Spirit in 
no other case has made use of a mind in this condition 
for the purpose of revealing to us the will of God. We 
could never believe words so spoken to be a prophecy, 
unless it was expressly revealed. 

2. The malediction refers not to Ham, but to Canaan . 
If it confers authority to enslave any one, it is only t-^ 
Canaan that it refers ; and no one, unless he can be 
proved to be a descendant of Canaan, could, in virtue 
of this malediction, even if it were a curse spoken b} 
God, be reduced to slavery. It may also ba observed 
that it was only concerning Shem and Japheth th^^ 
these words were spoken : there is nothing said of tliei^- 
descendants, nor of the descendants of Cana-an. 

3. If it be said that though Canaan is spoken of 
Ham his father is intended, we reply, It is not so spo 
ken ; nor do we know of any reason why he shoulu 
mention one and mean another, unless it be that he had 
not yet quite recovered his consciousness. And, if i* 
really meant Ham, the malediction has never been ful 
filled. The descendants of Ham, as they are given u 
in Genesis, were as free as those of Shem and Japheth 
Among them were Assyria and Egypt, who, so far from 
being slaves to the Israelites, were their grievous oppres 
sors, and to the latter of whom Israel was in bondage 
for four hundred years. Many of the descendants of 
Ham were among the most powerful nations of antiquity 
It seems to me impossible to find any justification oi 
the institution of slavery from anything that Noah evoj 
said on the su])ject. 

2. It has been said that slavery is authorized by thf 
law of Moses, and by the tcacliing oI* the New Testa 



VIOLATION OF PERSONAL LIBERTY. 219 

ment. Wo will first consider the bearing of the law 
of Moses. 

The argument on this subject is substantially this : 
Moses recognized without rebuke the existence of slav- 
cry. He made yarious laws concerning it, and even 
allowed the Hebrews to hold slaves. Whatever God al- 
lows at one time, he allows for all times ; therefore we 
at the present day may, without offence to him, hold 
slaves, and plead the Mosaic law for our permission. 
To us it seems that the facts are neither correctly stated, 
nor do they justify the inference that is drawn from them. 

The facts in the case are these : 

At the time when the law was given by Moses, slavery 
was universal, and had been so for ages. The people 
for whom he was appointed to legislate, were rude, igno- 
rant, and sensual, strongly tending to idolatry, and much 
disposed, when anything unfortunate or displeasing oc- 
curred, to leave him and return again to Egypt. Many 
of the practices which they had brought with them from 
Egypt, though wrong, he did not directly prohibit ; and 
our Saviour declares that he treated them in this man- 
ner on account of the hardness of their hearts. Had 
he at once directly forbidden their cherished practices, 
unless a miracle had interposed, they would have re- 
nounced his authority altogether. While he allowed 
tlie continuance of these practices, therefore, he placed 
them under such restrictions as should tend ultimately 
to abolish them. Sucli was the course which he pur- 
sued with regard to individual revenge. He did not 
forl^id it, but established in its place the cities of ref- 
uge. He acted in the same manner with respect to 
divorce, to the power of the parent over the child, to 
polygamy, and other i, lings. He did not directly 
abolish the wrong, but placed it under restrictions 
which would in the end lead to its disuse. And 
in general he acted upon the principle that his was a 
preparatory dispensation, on which light should shine 
at successive periods of the future, until the nation 
should be prepared for the perfect illumination that was 
to break forth in the preaching of Jesus of Nazareth. 



220 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

Our Saviour manifestly treats the Mosaic law a^ stand- 
ing in this relation to himself. 

NoAV, it is precisely in this manner that Moses deals 
with slavery. While he allows its existence, and says 
that slaves may be held, he is very explicit as to the 
manner in which a slave is to be treated. He makes a 
distinction between a Hebrew and an alien slave ; he 
establishes a septennial and jubilee year of release ; he 
unites the slave with the master in all religious service ; 
he confers upon him the right of circumcision ; he en- 
forces kind treatment by freeing the slaves in conse- 
quence of blemishes produced by punishment ; he forbids 
the Israelite to return a fugitive slave to his master ; he 
enacts that if a man bought a slave girl for the wife of 
his son, he must deal with her after the manner of daugh- 
ters ; and if he took another wife, her food, raiment, and 
duty of marriage he shall not diminish ; and if he did 
not these, then he shall let her go free. His laws 
respecting usury, and various others, are of the same 
tendency. 

1. Now, if the laws of Moses furnish authority for 
slavery, they furnish authority for just such slavery as 
Moses permitted, and no other. His laws respecting 
the treatment of slaves, their rights and privileges, are 
of just as much obligatoriness as the permission to hold 
slaves at all. If Moses authorizes slavery under special 
limitations and no other, then only slavery such as he 
permits can plead his authority. But every one sees 
that to place slavery under such laws would be to 
abolish it in a single generation. 

Let us not be deluded by the use of a word. We 
find slavery permitted in the Pentateuch ; but the kind 
of slavery there permitted is clearly defined, and per- 
mission is given to no other. But men seem to sup- 
pose that they may establish an institution under such 
laws as they please, and if they only call it slavery, 
they may claim for it the authority of Moses. Thus, if 
Moses allowed a Hebrew to buy a slave girl for his wife, 
or the wife of his son, and was bound to concede to her 
tlie privileges of a wife, even if he married another; 



VIOLATION OF PERSONAL LIBERTY. 221 

therefore a man may brutally violate or seduce a slave 
girl, and then sell his own otfspring and its unfortunate 
mother at the auction-block, and plead in justification 
the authority of Moses. 

2. If the laws of Moses are of unchangeable obliga- 
tion, then we are not at liberty to select here and there 
a precept which we profess to obey, but we are under 
obligation to obey the whole of them ; and we may in- 
dulge in every practice which they tolerate. The laws 
of circumcision, the passover, the going up to Jeru- 
salem to worshij), the cities of refuge, capital punish- 
ment for gathering of sticks on the Sabbath, are as 
much in force as ever ; and we may innocently institute 
the laws of divorce, polygamy, as well as slavery, as 
among the first elements of our present civilization. 

3. If the precepts and examples of Moses are of un- 
alterable obligation, then whatever teaches any opposite 
doctrine is of course to be rejected. Now, the New Tes- 
tament is in man}^ respects not only at variance with, but 
in opposition to, the precepts of the Old. Nay, our Sa- 
viour himself, in various cases, not only annuls the law 
of Moses, but inculcates moral precepts directly opposite 
to it. 

Thus says our Lord : "It was said by them of old 
time — but /say unto you." Here there is direct and 
palpable opposition. One or the other must be aban- 
doned. If the laws and precepts of Moses are of 
unchangeable obligation, the precepts of the New Testa- 
ment must be surrendered, and the teachings of the Sa- 
viour of mankind become an absolute nullity. To such 
consequences do we necessarily arrive if we take the law 
of Moses as of unalterable obligation. It would seem, 
then, tliat the institution of slavery can find no support 
from the Hebrew legislator. 

3. And, lastly, it has been said that the institution 
of slavery is sustained by the teachings of the New Tes- 
tament. The argument presented on this subject is on 
this wise : 

In the New Testament we find slavejy nowherei 
directly prob.i!)ited : the duties of f-lavcs arc clearly spoci- 



222 niACriCAL ETHICS. 

fied ; and we al: o find that tlio Apostle Paul returned 
a slave to his master. Slavery is therefore in harmony 
with the teachings of Christ and his apostles. 

Now, while we admit the above statements to be true, 
yet they are by no means the whole truth. While it is 
true that the New Testament does not prohibit slavery 
(except that it declares that man-stealers can never 
enter the kingdom of heayen), it inculcates doctrines en- 
tirely subversive of it. It teaches us the doctrine of uni- 
versal humanity — that the whole race of men are equal 
in the sight of God, and are brethren of each other ; that 
Christ died for the whole race without exception ; that 
we are under obligation to love our neighbor as our- 
selves ; nay, more, that we are to imitate the love of 
Christ to us, and love the evil and unthankful : "As I 
have loved you, that ye love one another." And in his 
account of the decisions of the last day, he has made 
the evidence of our love to him to depend upon our 
love to the most helpless of our brethren : " Inasmuch 
as ye have done it unto the least of these my bretliren 
ye have done it unto me." But still more, our Saviour 
has inculcated such duties as are inconsistent with the 
existence of slavery. He has taught us that every one 
of our race is a distinct individual, responsible first of 
all to God. Every one of us must give an account of 
himself unto God. No man may require service or 
impose restrictions on another, and no man may rendei 
service to another which is at variance with the sover- 
eign will of God. The domestic relations are under 
his own special charge. He has said of the marriage 
relation, " What God hath joined togetlier, let not man 
put asunder ; " and he who forcibly tears asunder those 
who are thus united for life, does it in defiance of the 
command of the eternal God. He has established the 
obligations of parents to bring up their children in the 
]iiirture and admonition of the Lord. And, finally, 
God requires every moral creature to consecrate to his 
service all his powers, whether of body or mind, and 
for so living he will be held responsible. But how can 
a man live thus who has no right to himself; but who. 



VIOLATION OF PERSONAL LlIiERTT. 223 

in the government of his hody and mind, is subject to 
the will of another, having no right over himself, or any- 
thing else which the other is bound to respect ? 

The whole of the facts, then, would seem to teach us 
that while the New Testament did not directly prohibit 
slavery, it inculcated moral principles which, just in so 
far as they are believed and obeyed, must lead to its 
entire overthrow. That such is the intention of our 
blessed Redeemer cannot, we think, admit of a doubt. 
We know what slavery was at the time of our Lord ; 
and to suppose the holy Son of God to look with favor 
on such an institution, seems almost like blasphemy. 

The question then arises, Why did the Saviour adopt 
this method of abolishing slavery ? Why did he not at 
once prohibit it, and declare that every slave through- 
out the world was at once free ? 

The answer is apparent. A social wrong, such as 
slavery, could be peacefully eradicated only by chang- 
ing the mind of both master and slave, by teaching the 
one party the love of justice and the fear of God, and 
by elevating the other to the proper level of individual 
responsibility. Is not the method which our Sariour 
selected the only one by which the overthrow of slav- 
ery could be peacefully and permanently effected ? The 
prohibition of slavery among the pagan population of 
the time could have led to nothing but servile war ; and 
notluDg essential would be gained, for the minds of men 
would remain as before ; but by the inculcation of true 
moral principles, slavery would fall of itself, with harm 
to no one, while both parties would be rendered essen- 
tially better. Can anything more clearly illustrate the 
boundless love and the omniscient wisdom of the Sa- 
viour than his choice of this method for the accomplish- 
ment of his benevolent purpose ? 

We must bear m mind that the gospel was designed 
not for one race, or for one time, but for all races and 
for all tiroes. It looked not at the abolition of this 
form of evil for that age alone, but for its universal 
abolition. Hence the important object of its author 
was to gain it a lodgment in every part of the knowD 



224 PRACTICAL ETHICS 

world, so that, by its universal diffusion, it might greatly 
and peacefully modify and subdue the evil passions of 
men, and thus without violence work a revolution in 
the whole mass of mankind. In this manner alone 
could its object, a universal moral revolution, have 
been accomplished. For if it had forbidden the evil, in- 
stead of subverting the principle, — if it had proclaimed 
the unlawfulness of slavery, and taught slaves to resist 
the oppression of their masters, — it would instantly have 
arrayed the two parties in deadly hostility. Throughout 
the civilized world its announcement would have been 
the signal of servile war. and the very name of the 
Christian religion would hive been forgotten amidst the 
agitation of universal bloodshed. The fact, under 
these circumstances, that the gospel does not forbid 
slavery, affords no reason to suppose that it does not 
mean to prohibit it ; least of aM. does it afford ground 
for the belief that Jesus Christ intended to authorize it. 

Upon these principles the apostle acted in the case of 
Onesimus. By the civil law, Philemon had power over 
his service, and with this power St. Paul would not in- 
terfere. He wished Philemon to have an opportunity to 
act in the case according to the principles of the gospel. 
He therefore sends him back, not as a slave, but as: 
Si brother beloved ; srnd enjoins him to treat Onesimus 
as he would treat the apostle himself. " Thou there- 
fore receive him that is mine own bowels." " Receive 
him as myself." What kind of servitude was imposed 
on Onesimus after this, we can easily judge. It is in 
this manner that slavery was intended to cease every- 
where, by the obedience to the principles of the gospel. 

If it be said that we may infer the innocence of the 
institution from the fact that the New Testament pre- 
scribes distinctly the conduct proper for slaves, we 
answer, The inference is by no means justified by the 
premises. We are commanded to return good for evil, 
to pray for them that despitefully use us, and when we 
are smitten on one cheek to turn also the other. We 
are told that to act thus is vf ell-pleasing to God. When 
Grod prescribes the course of conduct that will be well- 



VIOLATION OF PERSONAL LIBERTY. 2Lo 

pleasing to him, he by no means acknowledges the righl 
of abuse in the injurious person, but expressly de- 
clares, " Vengeance is mine, and I will repay, saith Hks 
Lord." Thus servants are commanded to be obedient 
to their own masters in singleness of heart as tmio 
Christ, with good-will doing service as to tlie Lord and 
not unto man, that they may adorn the doctrine of God 
our Saviour in all things. The manner in which the 
duty of servants is inculcated affords no ground for the 
assertion that the gospel authorizes slavery, any more 
than the command to honor the king, when that king 
was Nero, authorized the tyranny of the emperor ; or 
than the command to turn the other cheek, when one is 
smitten, justifies tlie infliction of violence by an inju- 
rious man. 

Li a word, if the principles of conduct which the 
gospel inculcates are directly at variance with the exist- 
ence of slavery ; if the relations which it establishes, 
and the obligations which it enforces, are inconsistent 
with its existence ; if the manner in which it treats it is 
the only manner which could lead to its universal exter- 
mination ; and if it inculcates the duty of slaves on 
principles which have no connection with the question 
of the right of masters over them, — I think it must be 
conceded that the precepts of the gospel in no manner 
countenance, but are entirely opposed to, the institution 
of domestic slavery. 

It may be proper, in closing this discussion, to con- 
sider the question. What is the duty of masters and 
slaves under a condition of society in which slavery now 
exists ? 

1. As to masters. 

If the system be wrong, as we have endeavored to 
show ; if it can be sustahied by no principle, either of 
natural law or of revealed religion ; if it be at variance 
with our duty both to God and man, — it must be aban- 
doned. If it be asked. When ? I ask, again, When shall 
a man cease to do wrong ? Is not the answ^er, Always — 
immediately? If a man is injuring us, do we ever doubt 
in respect to the time when he ought to cease ? 



226 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

But it may be said that immediate abolition would 
be the greatest injury to the slaves themselves ; they 
are incapable of self-support and of self-government. 

Let us inquire into the facts. They, even under the 
most unfavorable circumstances, have supported them- 
selves and their masters. They are able-bodied, and 
willing to work for wages. If they are fairly paid for 
their labor, they are as able and willing to support them- 
selves as the emigrants who are daily landing by thou- 
sands upon our shores. Labor is everywhere needed : 
they are willing and desirous to render it for a fair 
compensation, and this compensation will enable them 
to take care of themselves. Place them imder the 
government and protection of good and wholesome laws, 
and they are disposed to be peaceable and law-abiding 
citizens. This has been abundantly proved by all the 
fair experiments that have been made for the last three 
or four years. It has also been proved that it is more 
profitable to employ men as freemen, and at fair wages, 
than to employ them under the lash as slaves. 

But, it may be said, the laws of the state in which we 
live will not permit us to liberate our slaves, and if we 
liberated them they would be returned again to bond- 
age. This may be so ; but I ask. Who made these laws ? 
Did not the slave-holders themselves ? and cannot they 
unmake them ? We cannot surely be innocent if we 
ourselves have placed it out of our power to do right. 

But, it may be said, we are in favor of liberty ; but we 
are the minority, and cannot control legislation .on this 
subject. I ask, again. Have we yet done all in our 
power? Have we obeyed God in rendering to our 
slaves that which is just and equal ? Have we treated 
them as human beings, soon, with ourselves, to stand 
before the judgment-seat of Christ ? Have we taught 
them to read the Word of God, and given them every 
opportunity for obedience to its precepts ? And yet 
more, have we publicly borne testimony against this 
wrong, and done all in our power to change the legisla- 
tion under the protection of which the wrong has boeii 



VIOLATIOX OF PERSONAL LIBERTY. 227 

perpetrated ? Until we have done all tins, we cannot, 
surely, be innocent of the guilt of slavery. 

The duty of slaves is also explicitly made known in 
the Bible. The Scriptui-e rule is this : it matters not 
how a man treats me, I am bound to treat him justly, 
kindly, and faithfully. They are thus bound to obedi- 
ence, fidelity, and submission, not for the reason that 
the power of the master is founded in right, but on the 
ground of duty to God. This obligation extends to 
everything but matters of conscience. When a master 
commands a slave, or any one else, to do wrong, he 
must refuse obedience, and suffer the consequences, 
looking to God alone, to whom vengeance belongeth. 
Acting upon these principles, the slave may attain to 
the highest grade of virtue, and exhibit a sublimity 
and purity of moral character which, in the condition 
of the master, is to him wholly unattainable. 

Thus we see that the Christian religion not only for- 
bids slavery, but that it provides the only method in 
wliich, after it has been once established, it may be 
abolished with entire safety and benefit to both parties. 
By instilling the right moral dispositions into the bo- 
som of the master, and of the slave, it teaches the 
one the duty of reciprocity and universal love, and the 
other the duty of faithfulness, patience, and submission ; 
and thus, without disorder and revenge, but by the real 
moral improvement of both parties, restores both to 
the relation towards each other intended by the Creator. 

If any one will reflect on these facts, and remember 
the moral laws of the Creator, and the terrible sanc- 
tions by which these laws are vindicated, and also the 
benevolent provision which he has made for removing 
this evil after it has been once established, he must, I 
think, be convinced of the imperative obligation resting 
upon him to remove it without delay. The Judge of 
the whole earth will do justice. He hears the cry of 
the oppressed, and he will in the end terribly deliver 
them. The throne of iniquity can have no fellowship 
with him, though it frame mischief by a law. And, 
on the other hand, let those who suffer wrongfully bear 



228 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

the^u: sufferings with patience, committing their souls to 
Uiia as to a faithful Creator. 



SECTION III. 

THE VIOLATION OF PERSONAL LIBERTY BY SOCIETY. 

Society may violate the personal rights of the indi- 
vidual by depriving him unjustly of his liberty or prop- 
erty, or any of his means of physical happiness. This is 
done whenever any individual is imprisoned or pun- 
ished, except for crime. 

Let us commence this section with the self-evident 
proposition, Every man has a right to himself : that is, 
to the uncontrolled use of all his powers, both natural 
and spiritual. If it be asked where is the limit to this 
right, I answer, in its universality. Every man has 
precisely the same right, therefore every one must use 
his own right in such a manner as will not interfere 
with the same right bestowed equally upon his neighbor. 
The gift being equal and universal, can only be enjoyed 
by the just limitation of our desires. The same law 
which forbids me to encroach on the rights of another, 
protects me from the encroachments of the whole soci- 
ety. Thus the precept, Thou shalt not covet, lies at the 
foundation of all human liberty. 

But the passions and appetites of man are not always 
under the control of conscience, and frequently, to the 
extent of his power, he will strive to possess himself of 
the means of happiness of another. From this disposi- 
tion arise wars, rapine, dishonesty, knavery, licentious- 
ness, and every form of evil. 

In order to limit and correct this fridtful source of 
evil in man, we find him endowed with a natural love for 
society. As soon as hii'man beings unite in a community, 
even in its rudest forip,, the individual commits to soci- 
ety the protection of his rights, and the redress of his 
wrongs ; and society as instinctively assumes the office 



VIOLATION OF PERSONAL LIBERTY BY SOCIETY. 229 

thus coaimittcd to it. In tins manner VvTong may be 
redressed, not by the passionate suiierer himself, but by 
the calm and unprejudiced decision of his fellow-men. 
And now the indiYidual no more relies on his single 
arm for the redress of grievances, but he can command 
for this purpose the whole power of the community. 
Tlio more perfectly this authority is committed to soci- 
ety, and the more perfectly the society justly and fear- 
lessly uses it for the establishment of right, the farther 
is a community advanced in true civilization. 

We- see, then, the true function of society ; it is to 
secure to every individual the rights bestowed upon 
him by the Creator, and, in so far as may be, to reduce 
to practice the axiom. Every man has a right to himself. 

Societies, under whatever form of government they 
may be constituted, have always tended to transcend this 
cheir legitimate power. Because the individual is unable 
to resist society, society has been prone to suppose that 
its right was commensurate with its power, and that it 
might control the individual at its- own will. Hence 
the almost innumerable forms of tyranny and oppres- 
sion which it would seem that flesh is heir to. Govern- 
ments have supposed themselves authorized to violate, 
at their convenience or even from caprice, the dearest 
rigiits of the individual. Christianity seems first to have 
revealed the truth of the universal brotherhood of man, 
and ever since, with greater or less earnestness, nations 
have been striving for such a government as shall prop- 
erly estimate the rights of the individual, and elevate 
the masses to that level designed for them by a merciful 
and just Creator. 

Society may violate the personal rights of an indi- 
vidual, — 

1. By depriving him of his physical liberty, etc. 

2. Whenever, although he may be accused of crime, 
he is imprisoned or punished without a fair and impar- 
tial trial ; for, as every man is presumed to be innocent 
until he shall have been proved to be guilty, to imprisrui 
or molest him without such proof is to imprison or mo- 
lest him while he is innocent. This remark, however, 

20 



230 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

does not apply to tlie detention of prisoners in order 
to trial. The detention in this case is not for the pur- 
poses of punishment, but simply to prevent escape, and 
as a necessary means for the execution of justice and 
the redress of injury. It is also no injustice ; for it is 
a power over their persons which the individuals have, 
for mutual good, conceded to society. 

3. Inasmuch as every individual has the right to go 
where he pleases, under the limitations above specified, 
this right is violated, not merely by confining him to a 
particular place, but also by forbidding his going to any 
particular place within the limits of the society to which 
he belongs, or by forbidding him to leave it when and 
how he pleases. As his connection with the society t* 
which he belongs is a voluntary act, his simple will i^ 
an ultimate reason why he should leave it; and the 
free exercise of this will cannot, without injustice, be 
restrained. 

4. Society may violate the right of property of an 
individual by forbidding him to choose liis own form of 
labor, or imposing restrictions on that which he prefers. 
As every man has a right to himself, he has a right to 
the use of all his powers, and the right to use them as 
he will, if he work no injury to his neighbor. 

The great clause in the Magna Charta on this general 
subject, is in these memorable words : " Let no freeman 
be imprisoned, or disseized, or outlawed, or in any man 
ner injured or proceeded against by us, otherwise than 
by the legal judgment of his peers, or by the law of the 
land." And.the full enjoyment of this right is guaran- 
teed to every individual in this country and in Great 
Britain by the celebrated act of Habeas Corpus ; by 
which, upon a proper presentation of the case before a 
judge, the judge is under obligation, if there be cause, 
to command the person who has the custody of another, 
to bring him immediately before him; and is also obliged 
to set the prisoner at large, unless it appear to him that 
he is deprived of his liberty for a satisfactory reason. 

2. Society may violate the rights of the individual 
by restraining his intellectual liberty. 



VIOLATION OF PERSONAL LIBERTY BY SOCIETY. 231 

I have before stated that a man has the right to the 
use of his intellect in such manner as he pleases, pro- 
vided he interfere not with the rights of others. This 
includes, firsts the right to pursue what studies he 
pleases ; and, secondly^ to publish them when and where 
he pleases, subject to the above limitation. 

1. This right is violated, first, when society, or gov- 
ernment, which is its agent, prohibits any course of 
study or investigation to which the inclination of the 
individual may determine him. 

2. When government prohibits him from publishing 
these results, and from attempting, by the use of argu- 
ment, to make as many converts to his opinions as he 
can, in both cases within the limits specified. If it be 
said that men may thus be led into error, the answer is, 
For this error the individuals themselves, and not their 
neighbor, are responsible ; and therefore the latter has 
no authority to interfere. But a man may use his in- 
tellect in such manner as to be positively injurious to 
the community ; in how far is it right for society to in- 
terfere and treat the injurious use of his intellect as a 
crime ? The solution of this question is by no means 
easy. Let us, however, endeavor to throw upon it such 
light as we are able. 

1. Suppose a man to publish what is simply false, as it 
was supposed that Galileo did when he asserted the 
movement of the earth. Here every man has the 
means of refutation in his own hands. He may refute 
the reasoning for himself, and then the falsehood can 
do him no harm, and the refutation may bQ a benefit to 
others. Society is not, in such a case, called upon to 
interfere. 

2. Suppose a man to publish not only what is false, 
but what is wrong, — teaching, for instance, that moral 
distinctions are without foundation, that the right of 
.troperty is a fiction, and that self-control is a useless 
lardship. All this is not only false, but wicked, and 
•an tend only to evil. So long, however, as only the 
ittempt is made to change the opinions of men, society 
j.as no right to interfere. The reasoning can be shown 



232 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

to be false, and the harm can be thus arrested. Or, it 
the opinions of the society be changed by argument, 
laws will be altered, and a peaceful revolution will be 
effected. 

3. But suppose, besides attempting to change the 
opinions of the community, he endeavors to excite men 
to act upon his principles ; to set aside practically the 
ideas of right and wrong ; and, denying the right of 
property, urges men to commence, in a particular place, 
the pillage of their neighbors. The men who had 
been thus excited to lawlessness would, of course, be 
condignly punished ; and it seems evidently just that 
he who excited them to crime should share in their 
punishment, as but for him the crimes would never 
have been committed. 

4. It is well known that crime of every kind arises 
from the undue excitement of the passions and appetites 
of man. He who uses his intellect for the purpose of 
thus leading men into crime, as by the publication of 
writings manifestly intended to awaken lust, of obscene 
pictures, or of narratives of successful wickedness, is cer- 
tainly guilty of a crime against society, and the crime 
is deserving of punishment. 

5. Society is bound to protect the rights whicli have 
been committed to it, and of which it has assumed tlie 
protection. Among these is certainly reputation. The 
reputation which a man has established that he is capa- 
ble and desirous of doing well, is frequently of more 
value than money. That may be destroyed by false and 
malicious slander. It certainly becomes the commu- 
nity to come to his aid, and render such award as may 
establish him in his true standing, and render it for 
the interest of the slanderer to leave the honor of his 
neighbor untarnished. 

But it may be objected, that a society constituted on 
these principles might check the progress of free in- 
quiry, and, under the pretext of injurious tendency, 
limit the liberty of fair discussion. 

To this it may be answered — 

It is no objection to a rule, that it is capable of 



TIOLATION OF PLRSONAL LIBERTY BY SOCIETY. 233 

abuse ; for this objection will apply to all laws and to 
all arrangements that man has ever devised. In the 
present imperfect condition of human nature, it is fre- 
quently sufficient tha,t a rule prevents greater evil than 
it inflicts. 

It is granted that men may suppose a discussion in- 
jurious when it is not so, and may thus limit, unne- 
cessarily, the freedom of inquiry. But let us see in 
what manner this abuse is guarded against. 

The security, in this case, is the trial by jury. When 
twelve men, taken by lot from the whole community, 
sit in judgment, and specially when the accused has 
the right of excepting, for cause, to as many as he will, 
he is sure of having at least an impartial tribunal. 
These judges are themselves under the same law which 
they administer to others. As it is not to be supposed 
that they would wish to abridge their own personal 
liberty, it is not to be supposed that they would be 
willing to abridge it for the sake of interfering with 
that of their neighbor. The question is, therefore, 
placed in the hands of as impartial judges as the na- 
ture of the case allows. To such a tribunal no reason- 
able man can on principle object. To their decision 
every candid man would, when his duty to God did 
not forbid, readily submit. 

Now, as it must be granted that nc man has a right 
to use his intellect to the injury of a community, the 
only question in any particular case is, whether the 
use complained of is actually injurious, and injurious 
in such a sense as to require the interference of society. 
It surely does not need argument to show that the 
unanimous decision of twelve men is more likely to 
be correct than the decision of one man ; and specially 
that the decision of twelve men, who have no personal 
interest in the affair, is more likely to be correct than 
tJiat of one man, who is liable to all the influences of 
personal vanity, love of distinction, and pecuniary 
emolument. There surely can be no question wjiether, 
in a matter on which the dearest interests of others 
are concerned, a man is to be a judge in his own case, 
20* 



234 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

or wlictlioi as uiiparlial a tribunal as the ingenuily of 
man has ever devised shall judge for him. If ifc be 
said that twelve impartial men are liable to error, and 
by consequence to do injustice, it may be answered, 
How much more liable is one, and he a partial man, to 
err and to do injustice ! If, then, a system of trial of 
this sort not only must prevent more injury than it 
inflicts, but is free from all liability to injury, except 
such as results from the acknowledged imperfections of 
our nature, the fault, if it exist, is not in the rule, but 
in the nature of man, and must be endured until the 
nature of man be altered. 

And I cannot close this discussion without remarking 
that a most solemn and imperative duty seems to me to 
rest upon judges, legislators, jurors, and prosecuting offi- 
cers, in regard to this subject. We hear at the present 
day very much about the liberty of the press, the 
freedom of inquiry, and the freedom of the human 
intellect. All these are precious blessings — by far too 
precious to be lost. But it is to be remembered that 
no liberty can exist without restraint ; and the remark 
is as true of intellectual as of physical liberty. As 
there could be no physical liberty if every one, both 
bad and good, did what he would, so there would soon 
be no liberty, either physical or intellectual, if every 
man were allowed to publish what he would. 

The danger to liberty is preeminently greater, at the 
present day, from the licentiousness than from the re- 
striction of the press. It therefore becomes all civil 
and judicial ofiicers to act as the guardians of society, 
and, unawed by popular clamor, and iinscduced by 
popular favor, resolutely to defend the people against 
their -worst enemies. Whatever may be the form of a 
government, it cannot long continue free after it 
has refused to acknowledge the distinction between the 
liberty and the licentiousness of the press. And much 
as wo may execrate a profligate writer, let us remember 
that the civil officer who, from pusillanimity, refuses to 
exercise the power placed in his hands to restrain abuse, 
deserves at leart an equal share of our execration. 



VIOLATION OF RELIGIOUS LIBERTY BY SOCIETY. 235 

SECTION IV. 

THE VIOLATION OF RELIGIOUS LIBERTY BY SOCIETY 

The right of religions liberty may he violated hy 
society. 

We have before said that every individual has the 
right to pursue his own happiness by worshipping hi^ 
Creator in any way that he pleases, provided he do not 
interfere with the rights of his neighbor. 

This mcludes the following things : He is at liberty 
to worship God in any form that he deems most accept- 
able to him ; tc worship individually or socially ; and 
to promote that form of worship which he considers 
acceptable to God, by the promulgation of such senti- 
ments as he believes to be true, provided he leave the 
rights of his neighbors unmolested ; and this liberty is 
not to be restricted unless such molestation be made 
manifest to a jury of his peers. 

As a man is at liberty to worship God individually 
or in societies collected for that purpose, if his object 
can be secured, in his own opinion, by the enjoyment of 
any of the facilities for association granted to other 
men for innocent purposes, he is entitled to them, just 
as other men are. The general principle applicable to 
the case I suppose to be this : A man, in consequence 
of being religious, that is, of worshipping God, acquires 
no human right whatever ; for it is, so far as his fellow- 
men's rights are concerned, the same thing whether he 
worship God or not. And, on the other hand, in con- 
sequence of being religious, he loses no right, and for 
the same reason. And, therefore, as men are entitled 
to all innocent facilities which they need for prosecut- 
ing an innocent object, a religious man has the same 
right to these facilities for promoting Ids object ; and it 
is the business of no one to inquire whether tliis bo 
religious, scientific, mechanical, or any other, so long 
as it is merely innocent. 

Now, this right is violated by society — 



236 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

1. By forbidding the exercise of all religion, as in 
the case of the French Revolntion. 

2. By forbidding or enforcing the exercise of any 
form of religion. In so far as an act is religious, society 
has no right of control over it. If it interfere with the 
rights of others, this puts it within the control of society, 
and this alone, and solely for this reason. The power 
of society is therefore, in this case, exercised simply 
on the ground of injury perpetrated and proved, and 
not on account of the truth or falseness, the goodness 
or badness, of the religion in the sight of the Creator. 

3. By inflicting disabilities upon men, or depriving 
them of any of their rights as men, because they are 
or are not religious. This violation occurs in all cases 
in which society interferes to deny to religious men the 
same privileges for promoting their happiness by way 
of religion as they enjoy for promoting their happiness 
in any other innocent way. Such is the case when 
religious societies are denied the right of incorporation, 
with all its attendant privileges, for tlie purposes of 
religious worship, and the promotion of their religious 
opinions. Unless it can be shown that the enjoyment 
of such privileges interferes with the rights of others, 
the denial of them is a violation of religious liberty. 
Depriving clergymen of the elective franchise is a vio- 
lation of a similar character. 

4. By placing the professors of any peculiar form of 
religion under any disabilities ; as, for instance, ren- 
dering them ineligible to office, or in any manner mak- 
ing a distinction between them and any other professors 
of religion, or any other men. As society has no right 
to inflict disabilities upon men on the ground of their 
worshipping God in general, by consequence, it has no 
right to inflict disabilities on the ground of worshipping 
God in any manner in particular. If the whole subject 
is without the control of society, a part of it is also 
without its control. Different modes of worship may 
be more or less acceptable to God ; but this gives to no 
man a riglit to interfere with those means of happiness 
which God has conferred upon any other man. 



VIOLATIOIT OF RELIGIOUS LIBERTY BY SOCIETY. 23^ 

The question may arise here whether society has a 
right to provide by hiw for the support of religious 
instriictioii. I answer, If the existence of religious 
instruction be necessary to the existence of society, and 
if there be no other mode of providing for its support 
but by legislative enactment, then, I do not see any 
more violation of principle in such enactment than in 
that for the support of common schools ; provided that 
no one were obliged to attend unless he chose, and that 
every one were allowed to pay for tliat form of worship 
which he preferred. There are other objections, how- 
ever, to such a course, aside from that arising from 
the supposed violation of civil liberty. 

1. It cannot be shown that religious teachers cannot 
be supported without legislative aid. The facts teach 
a different result. 

2. The religion ox Christ has always exerted its 
greatest power when, entirely unsupported, it has been 
left to exert its own peculiar effect upon the consciences 
of men. 

3. The support of religion by law is at variance with 
the genius of the gospel. The gospel supposes ever}- 
man to be purely voluntary in his service of God, in 
his choice of the mode of worship, of his religious 
teachers, and of the compensation which he will make 
to them for their services. Now, all this is reversed in 
the supposition of a ministry supported by civil power. 
T^^e therefore conclude that, although such support 
might be provided without interference with civil lib- 
erty, it could not be done without violation of the spirit 
of the gospel. That is, though the state might be de- 
sirous of affording aid to the church, the church is 
bound, on principle, resolutely and steadfastly to pro- 
test against in any manner receiving it. 

4. And I think that the facts will show that this view 
of the subject is correct. The clergy, as a profession, 
are better remunerated by voluntary support than by 
legal enactment. When the people themselves arrange 
the matter of compensation with their clergymen, there 
are no rich and overgro'vn benefices, but there are also 



rSS PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

but few miserably poor curacies. The minister, if 1iq 
deserve it, generally lives as well as his people. If it- 
be said that high talent should be rewarded by elevated 
rank in this profession, as in any other, I answer, that 
such seems to me not to be the genius of the gospel. 
The gospel presents no inducements of worldly rank or 
of ofhcial dignity, and it scorns to hold out such mo- 
tives to the religious teacher. I answer, again, official 
rank and luxurious splendor, instead of adding to, take 
from, the real influence of a teacher of religion. They 
tend to destroy that moral hardihood which is necessary 
to the success of him whose object it is to render men 
better, and, while they surround him with all the 
insignia of power, enervate that very spirit on which 
moral power essentially depends. And, besides, a re- 
ligion supported by the government must soon become 
the tool of the government ; or, at least, must be in- 
volved and implicated in every change which the gov- 
ernment may undergo. How utterly at variance this 
must be with the principles of Him who declared, " My 
kingdom is not of this world," surely need not be 
illustrated. 



CHAPTER II. 

JUSTICE IN RESPECT TO PROPERTY. 

SECTION I. 

THE EIGHT OF PROPERTY. 

1. In considering the right of property, we have occa- 
sion to refer again to the axiom, of which we have before 
spoken, namely, Every man has a right to himself. 

The right to one's self includes the right to use our 
faculties, whether of body or mind, as we will, for the 
promotion of our own happiness. Inasmuch, however, 
as this right is universal, it is evident that it can only 
be universally enjoyed when every man so uses his fac- 
ulties as not to interfere with the similar and equal 
right of his neighbor. The right of property, there- 
fore, thus understood, is the right to use our faculties as 
we choose, provided we so use them as not to interfere 
with the similar rights of another. 

If we are possessed of this right over our own facul- 
ties both of body and mind, we have also a right to the 
result which may be produced by the innocent use of 
them. Thus, if upon unappropriated land, by my 
labor and skill, I raise a crop of wheat, that wheat is 
mine, and I may use it as I will, provided I use it inno- 
cently. My skill and labor become indissolubly united 
with this product, and no one can present the shadow 
of a claim to it, or in the least invalidate my right. 
My right is exclusive, and bars out every other claim- 
ant , whether it be an individual or society. 

I say it bars out society. To this, however, there 



2IC PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

may bccm to be a single exception. It is tlie office of 
society to confirm mo in this right. But society can- 
not do this without the expense of providing means and 
agents. It may, therefore, jvistly claim of me an equi- 
table portion of the public expense, and enforce this 
claim by the means placed in its power. 

This right is so obvious that it scarcely seems neces- 
sary to illustrate it. A few considerations, liowevcr, 
may tend to show its universality and importance. 

1. All men, as soon as they begin to think, even in 
early youth and infancy, perceive this relation of prop- 
erty. They cannot define it, but they know what it is. 
They immediately appropriate certain things to them- 
selves ; they feel injured if their control over them is 
interfered with, and are conscious of guilt if they vio- 
late the similar right of others. 

2. Society everywhere, among its first acts, protects 
the right of property of the individual. It always treats 
the offender as guilty of wrong, and punishes him 
accordingly. The Hebrew law enjoined twofold restitu- 
tion in cases of theft, and modern law inflicts fines or 
imprisonment for the same offence. 

3. The existence and progress of society, nay, the 
very existence of our race, depends, essentially, upon 
the acknowledgment of this right. 

Were not every individual entitled to the results of 
his labor, and to the exclusive enjoyment of the benefits 
of these results — 

1. No one would labor any more than was sufficient 
for his own individual subsistence, because he would 
have no more right than any other person to the value 
which he had created. 

2. Hence there would be no accumulation ; of course, 
no capital, no tools, no provision for the future, no 
houses, and no agriculture. Each man, alone, would 
be obliged to contend at the same time with the ele- 
ments, with wild beasts, and also with his rapacious fel- 
low-men. The human race, under such circumstances, 
could not lono' exist. 



THE EIGHT OF PROPERTY. 21l 

speedily perish, or its existence be prolonged, even in 
favorable climates, under eveiy accumulation of vv'retcli- 
edness. Progress would be out of the question, and 
the only change which could take place would be that 
arising from the pressure of heavier and heavier pen- 
ury, as the spontaneous productions of the earth became 
rarer from improvident consumption, without any cor- 
respondent labor for reproduction. 

4. It needs only to be remarked, in addition, that just 
in proportion as the right of property is held inviolate, 
just in that proportion civilization advances, and the 
comforts and conveniences of life multiply. Hence it 
is that in free and well-ordered governments, and spe- 
cially during peace, property accumulates, all the orders 
of society enjoy the blessings of competence, the arts 
flourish, science advances, and men begin to form some 
conception of the happiness of which the present sys- 
tem is capable. And, on the contrary, under despotism, 
when law spreads its protection over neither house, 
land, estate, nor life, and specially during civil wars, 
industry ceases, capital stagnates, the arts decline, the 
people starve, population diminishes, and men rapidly 
tend to a state of barbarism. 

The holy Scriptures treat of the right of property 
as a thing acknowledged, and direct their precepts 
against every act by which it is violated, and also 
against the tempers of mind from which such violation 
proceeds. The doctrine of revelation is so clearly set 
forth on this subject that I need not delay for the sake 
of dwelling upon it. It will be sufficient to refer to the 
prohibitions in the decalogue against stealing and cov- 
eting, and to the various precepts in the New Testameni 
respecting our duty in regard to our neighbor's pos- 
sessions. 

I proceed, in the next place, to consider — 

n. The modes in which the right of property may 
be acquired. These may be divided into two classes : 
&rst, direct : second, indirect. 

First. Direct. 

1 . By iJie immediate gift of God 
21 



42 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

When Gcd has given me a desire for any object, and 
?4as spread this object before me, and there is no rational 
creature to contest my claim, I may take that object, 
and use it as I will, subject only to the limitation of 
those obligations to him and to my fellow-creatures 
which have been before specified. On this principle is 
founded my right to enter upon wild and unappropri- 
ated lands, to hvmt wild game, to pluck wild fruit, to 
take fish, or anything of this sort. This right is suffi- 
cient to exclude the right of any subsequent claimant ; 
for, if it has been given to me, that act of gift is valid 
until it can be shown by another that it has been an- 
nulled. A grant of this sort, however, applies only to 
an individual so long as he continues the locum tenens, 
and no longer. He has no right to enter upon unap- 
propriated land, and leave it, and then claim it after 
ward by virtue of his first possession. Were it other- 
wise, any individual might acquire a title to a whole 
continent, and exclude from it all the rest of his species. 

2. By the labor of our hands. 

We have had occasion before to refer to the fact that 
every man has a right to himself; that is, he has a right 
to all the powers and faculties of his body and mind. 
He may use them as he will, only not to the injury of 
the rights of others. The product arising from the 
innocent use of his powers is his own. When he unites 
the exercise of his faculties with any matter not before 
in the possession of another, that matter becomes his 
own, and he may use it as he will. Thus, if I raise a 
urop of wheat upon land not previously appropriatec? 
■hat wheat is mine. No reason can possibly be con 
3eived why any other being should raise a claim to ii 
which could extinguish or even interfere with mine. 

This, however, is not meant to assert that a man ha, 
a right to anything more than to the results of Ms labor. 
He has no right, of course, to the results of the labor 
of another. If, by my labor, I build a mill, and employ 
a man to take tlie charge of it, it does not follow that 
ue has a right to all the profits of the mill. If I, by 
iiiy labor and frugality, earn money to purchase a farm. 



THE EIGHT OF PROPERTY. 245 

and hire a laborer to work upon it, it does not follow 
that he has a right to all the produce of the farm. The 
profit is, in this case, to be divided between us. He 
has a right to the share which fairly belongs to his la- 
bor, and I have a right to the share that belongs to me, 
as the proprietor and possessor of that which is the re- 
sult of my antecedent labor. It would be as unjust for 
him to have the ichole profit as for me to have the whole 
of it. It is fairly a case of partnership, in which each 
party receives his share of the result, upon conditions 
previously and voluntarily agreed upon. This is the 
general principle of ivages. 

Secondly. The right of property may be acquired 
indirectly. 

1. By exchange. 

Inasmuch as I have an exclusive right to appropriate 
innocently the possessions which I have acquired by the 
means stated above, and, inasmuch as every other man 
has the same right, we may, if we choose, voluntarily 
exchange our right to particular things with each other. 
If I cultivate wheat, and my neighbor cultivates corn, 
and we, both of us, have more of our respective pro- 
duction than we wish to use for ourselves, we may, on 
such terms as we can agree upon, exchange the one for 
the other. Property held in this manner is held right- 
fully. This exchange is of two kinds: first, barter, 
where the exchange on both sides consists of com- 
modities ; and second, bargain and sale, where one of 
the parties gives and the other receives money for bis 
property. 

2. By gift. 

As I may thus rightfully part with, and another party 
rightfully receive my property, for an equivalent ren- 
dered, so I may, if I choose, part with it without an 
equivalent ; that is, merely to gratify my feelings of 
benevolence, or afiection, or gratitude. Here I volun- 
tarily confer upon another the right of ownership, and 
he may rightfully receive and occupy it. 

3. By iL'ill. 

As I have the right to dispose of my property as I 



f44 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

please during my lifetime, and may exchange it or 
give it as I will at any time previous to my decease, so 
I may give it to another on the condition that he shall 
not enter into possession until after my death. Prop 
erty acquired in this manner is held rightfully, 

4. By inheritance. 

Inasmuch as persons frequently die without making 
a will, society, upon general principles, presumes upon 
the manner in which the deceased would have dis- 
tributed his property had he made a will. Thus, it is 
supposed that he would distribute his wealth among his 
widow and children ; or, in failure of these, among his 
relations by blood ; and in proportions corresponding to 
their degree of consanguinity. Property may be right- 
fully acquired in this manner. 

6. By possession. 

In many cases, although a man have no moral right 
to property, yet he may have a right to exclude others 
from it ; and others are under obligation to leave him 
unmolested in the use of it. Thus, a man may by in- 
heritance come into possession of an estate of which the 
rightful owners have all died. Now, although the pres- 
ent holder has no just title to the property, yet, if it 
were to be taken from him and held by another, the 
second would have no better title than the first ; and a 
third person would have the same right to dispossess 
the second, and in turn be himself dispossessed, and so 
on forever; that is, there would be endless controversy, 
without any nearer approximation to justice ; and hence 
it is better that the case be left as it was in the first 
instance ; that is, in general, possession gives a right, 
so far as man is concerned, to unmolested enjoyment, 
unless some one else can establish a better title. 

6. And hence, in general, I believe it will hold that 
while merely the laws of society do not give a man any 
moral right to property, yet, when these laws have once 
assigned it to him, this simple fact imposes a moral ob- 
ligation upon all other men to leave him in the undis- 
turbed possession of it. I have no more right to set 
fire to the house of a man whc has defrauded an orp])au 



THE RIGHT OF PKOPERTT. 245 

to ol)tain it, than I have to set fire to tlie house of any 
other man. 

To sum up what has been said : Property may be 
originaJiy acquired either by the gift of God, or by our 
own labor : it may be subsequently acquired either by 
exchange, or by gift during life, or by will ; but in 
these cases of transfer of ownership, the free consent of 
the criginal oivner is necessary to render the transfer 
morally right ; and, lastly, where the individual has not 
acquired property justly, the mere possession, though 
it alters not his moral right to possession, yet it is a 
sufficient bar to molestation, unless some other claimant 
can prefer a better title. These, I think, comprehend 
the most important modes by which the right of prop- 
erty can be acquired. 

That principles somewhat analogous to these arc in 
accordance with the laws of God, is, I think, evident 
from observation of the history of man. The more 
rigidly these principles have been carried into active 
operation, the greater amount of happiness has been 
secured to the individual, the more rapidly have nations 
advanced in civilization, and the more successfully have 
they carried into effect every means of mental and 
moral cultivation. The first steps that were taken in 
the recovery of Europe from the misery of the dark 
ages, consisted in defining and establishing the right 
of property upon the basis of equitable and universal 
law. Until something of this sort is done, no nation 
can emerge from a state of barbarism.^ 

And hence we see the importance of an able, learned, 
upright, and independent judiciary, and the necessity 
\o national prosperity of carrying the decisions of law 
into universal and impartial effect. It not unfrequently 
happens that, for the purposes of party, the minds of 
the people are inflamed against the tribunals whose 
duty it is to administer justice ; or else, on the other 
hand, for the same purpose, a flagrant violation of jus- 
tice by a popular favorite is looked upon as harmless. 
Let it be remembered that society must be dissolved 

1 Kobertsou-s rieliminary Dissertation to the History of Charles V. 



246 PEACTICAL ETHICS. 

unless the s „premacy of the law be maintained. " The 
voice of the law " will cease to be " the harmony of the 
world," unless " all things," both high and low, " do 
her reverence." How often has even-handed justice 
commended the chalice to the lips of the demagogue, 
and he has been the first to drink of that cup which he 
supposed liimself to be mingling for others ! 



SECTION II. 

MODES IN WHICH THE EIGHT OF PEOPEETY MAY BE VIOLATED 
BY THE INDIVIDUAL. 

Paut I. When the transfer of property is permanent. 

I have already remarked that the right of property,- 
so far as it extends, is exclusive both of the individual 
and of society. This is true in respect to both parties. 
Thus, whatever I own, I own exclusively both of society 
and of individuals ; and whatever either individuals or 
society own, they own exclusively of me. Hence the 
right of property is equally violated by taking viciously 
either public or private property ; and it is equally 
violated by taking viciously, whether the aggressor be 
the public or an individual. And, moreover, it is ex- 
clusive to tlie full amount of what is owned. It is, 
therefore, as truly a violation of the right of property 
to take a little as to take much ; to purloin a book or a 
penknife as to steal money ; to steal fruit as to steal a 
liorse ; to defraud the revenue as to rob my neighbor ; 
10 overcharge the public as to overcharge my brother ; 
to cheat the post-office as to cheat my friend. 

It has already been observed, that a right to the 
property of another can be acquired only hy his own 
voluntary choice. This follows immediately from the 
definition of the right of property. But, in oider to 
render this choice, of right, available, it must be in- 
fluenced by no motives presented wrongfully by the 



VIOLATION OF THE EIGHT OF PiiOPERTY. 247 

receiver. Thus, if I demand a man's purse on tlio 
alternative that I will shoot him if he deny me, he 
may surrender it rather than be shot ; but I have no 
right to present such an alternative, and the consent of 
the owner renders it no less a violation of the right of 
property. If I inflame a man's vanity in order to in- 
duce him to buy of me a coach which he does not want, 
the transaction is dishonest ; because I have gained his 
will by a motive which I had no right to use. So if 1 
represent an article in exchange to be different from 
what it is, I present a false motive, and gain his con- 
sent by a lie. And thus, in general, as I have said, 
a transfer of property is morally wrong where the con- 
sent of the owner is obtained by means of a vicious act 
on the part of the receiver. 

The right of property may be violated — 

1. By taking property without the knowledge of the 
owner, or theft. It is here to be remembered that the 
consent of the owner is necessary to any transfer of 
property. We do not vary the nature of the act by 
persuading ourselves that the owner will not care about 
it, or that he would have no objection, or that he will 
not know it, or that it will never injure him to lose it. 
All this may or may not be ; but none of it varies the 
moral character of the transaction. The simple ques- 
tion is, Has the owner consented to the transfer ? If he 
have not, so long as this circumstance, essential to a 
righteous transfer, is wanting, vfhatever other circum- 
stances exist, it matters not — the taking of another's 
property is theft. 

2. By taking the property of another by consent vio- 
lently obtained. 

Such is the case in highway robbery. Here we wick- 
edly obtain control over a man's life, and then offer 
him the alternative of deatli or delivery of his property. 
Inasmuch as the consent is no more voluntary than if 
we tied his hands and took the money out of his pocket, 
the violation of property is as great. And, besides 
this, we assume the power of life and death ovm- an 
individual over whom we have no right whatever. In 



248 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

this case, in fact, we assume the unlimited control over 
the life and possessions of another, and on pain of 
death oblige him to surrender his property at our will. 
As here there is a double and aggravated violation of 
right, it is in all countries considered deserving of con- 
dign punishment, and is generally rendered a capital 
offence. 

3. By consent fraudulently obtained, or cheating. 

This may be of two kinds : 

1. Where no equivalent is offered, as when a beggar 
obtains money on false pretences. 

2. Where the equivalent is different from what it pur- 
ports to be; or where the consent is obtained by an 
immoral act on the part of him who obtains it. As this 
includes by far the greatest number of violations of the 
law of property, it .will require to be treated of some- 
what at length. 

We shall divide it into two parts : — 1. Wliere the 
equivalent is material; 2. Where the equivalent is im- 
material. 

I. Wheee the equivalent is material. This is of 
two kinds: — 1. Where the transfer is perpetual; 2. 
Where the transfer is temporary. 

First. WJiere the transfer of property on both sides 
is perpetual. This includes the law of buyer and seller. 

The principal laws of buyer and seller will be seen 
from a consideration of the relation in which they stand 
to each other. The seller, or merchant, is supposed to 
devote his time and capital to the business of supplying 
his neighbors with articles of use. For his time, risk, 
interest of money, and skill, he is entitled to an advance 
on his goods ; and the buyer is under a correspondent 
obligation to allow that advance, except in the case 
of a change in the market price, to be noticed subse- 
quently. 

Hence, 1. The seller is under obligation to furnish 
goods of the same quality as that ordinarily furnished 
at the same prices. He is paid for his skill in purchas- 
ing, and of course he ought to possess that skill, or to 
suffer the consequences. If he furnish goods of this 



TIOLATION OF THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. 245 

quality, and tliey are, so far as his knowledge extends, 
free from any defect, he is under obligation to do noth 
ing more than to oifer them. He is under no obliga 
tions to explain their adaptation, and direct the judg- 
ment of the buyer. Having furnished goods to the best 
of his skill, and of the ordinary quality, his responsi- 
bility ceases, and it is the business of the buyer to 
decide whether the article is adapted to his wants. If, 
however, the seller have purchased a bad article, and 
have been deceived, he has no right to sell it at the reg- 
ular price, on the ground that he gave as much for it as 
for what should have been good. The error of judg- 
ment was /iZ5, and in his own profession ; and he must 
bear the loss by selling the article for what it is worth. 
That this is the rule is evident from the contrary case. 
If he had, by superior skill, purchased an article at 
much less than its value, he would consider himself 
entitled to the advantage, and justly. Where he is 
entitled, however, to the benefit of his skill, he must, 
under correspondent circumstances, suffer from the 
want of it. Hence we say that a seller is under obliga- 
tion to furnish goods at the market price, and of the 
market quality, but is under no obligation to assist the 
judgment of the buyer, unless the article for sale is 
defective, and then he is under obligation to reveal it. 

The only exception to this rule is when, from the 
conditions of the sale, it is known that no guaranty is 
offered ; as when a horse is sold at auction without any 
recommendation. Here every man knows that lie buys 
at his own risk, and bids accordingly. 

2. Every one who makes it his business to sell, is not 
only bound to sell, but is also at liberty to sell, at the 
market price. That he is at liberty to sell is equally 
evident ; for as he is obliged to sell without remunera- 
tion, or even with loss if the article fall in price while 
in his possession, so he is at liberty to sell it at above a 
fair remuneration if the price of the article advances. 
As he must suffer in case of the fall of merchandise, he 
is entitled to the correspondent gain if merchandise 
vises ; and thus his chance on both sides is equalized. 



250 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

Besides, by allowing the price of an article to rise with 
its scarcity, the rise itself is in the end checked ; since, 
by attracting an unusual amount of products to the 
place of scarcity, the price is speedily reduced again to 
the ordinary and natural equilibrium of supply and 
demand. 

It should, however, be remarked that this rule applies 
mainly to those whose occupation it is to traffic in the 
article bought and sold. A dealer in china-ware is 
bound to sell china-ware at the market price ; but if a 
man insist upon buying his coat, he is under no such 
obligation, for this is not his occupation. Should he put 
himself to inconvenience by selling his apparel to gratify 
the whim of his neighbor, he may, if he will, charge an 
extra price for this inconvenience. The rule applies in 
any other similar case. It would, however, become an 
honest man fairly to state that he did not sell at the 
market price, but that he charged what he chose, as a 
remuneration for his trouble. 

3. The seller has no right to influence the will of the 
buyer by any motives aside from those derived from the 
real value of the article in question. 

Thus, he has no right to appeal to the fears, or hopes, 
or avarice of the buyer. This rule is violated when, 
in dealings on the exchange, false information is circu- 
lated for the purpose of raising or depressing the price 
of stocks. It is violated by speculators who monopolize 
an article to create an artificial scarcity, and thus raise 
the price, while the supply is abundant. The case is 
the same when a salesman looks upon a stranger who 
enters his store, and deliberately calculates how he shall 
best influence and excite and mislead his mind, so as 
to sell tlie greatest amount of goods at the most exorbi- 
tant profit. And, in general, any attempt to influence 
the mind of the purchaser by motives aside fr®m those 
derived from the true character of the article for sale, 
are always doubtful, and generally vicious. 

These remarks have been made with respect to the 
seller. But it is manifest that they are just as applicable 
to the buyer. Both parties are under eauallv imperative 



VIOLATION OF THE EIGHT OF I'KOPERVY. 251 

and correspondent obligations. If the seller be bound 
to furnish an article of ordinary quality, and to sell it at 
the market price, — that is, if he be obliged to exert his 
skill for the benefit of the buyer, and to charge for that 
skill and capital no more than a fair remuneration, — 
then the buyer is under the same obligation freely and 
-« illiugly to pay that remuneration. It is disgraceful to 
him to wish the seller to labor for him for nothing, or 
for less than a fair compensation. If the seller has no 
right by extraneous considerations to inflaence the 
motives of the buyer, the buyer has no right by any 
such considerations to influence the motives of the seller. 
The buyer is guilty of fraud if he underrate the seller's 
goods, or by any of the artifices of traffic induces him 
to sell at less than a fair rate of profit. " 'Tis naught, 
'tis naught, saith the buyer ; but when he goeth his 
way, then he boasteth." Such conduct is as dishonest 
and dishonorable now as it was in the days of Solomon. 

It has also been observed above, that when the seller 
knows of any defect in his product, he is bound to de- 
clare it. The same rule, of course, applies to the buyer. 
If he know that the value of the article has risen, with- 
out the possibility of the owner's knowledge, he is bound 
to inform him of this change in its value. The sale is 
otherwise fraudulent. Hence all purchases and sales 
effected in consequence of secret information procured 
in advance of our neighbor, are dishonest. If property 
rise in value by the providence of God while in my 
neighbor's possession, that rise of value is as much his 
as the property itself ; and I may as honestly deprive 
him of the one without an equivalent as of the other. 

The ordinary pleas by which men excuse themselves 
for the violation of the moral law of property are weak 
and wicked. Thus, when men sell articles of a different 
quality from that which their name imports, — as when 
wines or liquors are diluted or compounded, when tlie 
ordinary weight or measure is curtailed, or where em- 
ployers defraud ignorant persons of their wages, as I 
am told is frequently the case with those who employ 
various classes of laborers, — it is common to liear it 



252 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

remarked, " The competition is so great that we coald 
sell nothing unless we adopted these methods ; " or 
else, " The practice is universal ; and if we did not do 
thus, other persons would, and so the evil would not 
be diminished." To all this it is sufficient to reply : 
The law of God is explicit on this subject. " Thou 
shalt love thy neighbor as thyself; " and God allows of 
no excuses for the violation of his commands. " He 
hath showed it unto them : therefore they are without 
excuse." These pleas are either true or false. If false, 
they ought to be abandoned. If true, then the traffic 
itself must be given up ; for no man has any right to be 
engaged in any pursuit in violation of the laws of God. 

A bargain is concluded when both parties have sig- 
nified to each other their will to make the transfer ; that 
is, that each chooses to part with his own property, and 
to receive the property of the other in exchange. 
Henceforth, all the risk of loss and all the chances of gain 
are of course mutually transferred, although the articles 
themselves remain precisely as they were before. If a 
merchant buy a cargo of tea — after the sale, no matter 
where the tea is, the chances of loss or gain are his ; 
and they are as much his in one place as in another. 

So, if the article, after the sale, have become injured 
before I take actual possession of it, I bear the loss ; 
because, the right of ownership being vested in me, I 
could have removed it if I chose, and no one had a 
right, without my direction, to remove it. 

The only exception to this exists in the case where, 
by custom or contract, the obligation to deliver is one 
of the conditions of the sale. Here the seller, of course, 
charges more for assuming the responsibility to deliver, 
and he is to beai the risk, for which he is fairly paid. 
It is frequently a question, When is the act of delivery 
completed? This must be settled by precedent, and 
can rarely be known in any country until a decision 
is had in the courts of law. As soon as such a case is 
adjudicated, the respective parties govern themselves 
accordingly 



VIOLATION OF THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. 253 

Fart II. Wlion the transfer of property is temporary. 
In this case the borrower pays a stipulated equivalent 
for the use of it. 

That he should do so is manifestly just, because the 
property in the hands of the owner is capable of pro- 
ducing an increase, and the owner, if he held it, would 
derive the benefit of that increase. If he part with this 
benefit for the advantage of another, it is just that the 
otlier should allow him a fair remuneration. If tlie 
borrower could not, after paying this remuneration, 
grow richer than he would be without the use of his 
neighbor's capital, he would not borrow. But, inas- 
much as he by the use of it can be benefited after pay- 
uig for the use, no reason can be conceived why he 
should not pay for it. 

The remuneration paid for the use of capital in the 
form of money is called interest; when in the form of 
land or houses, it is called rent. 

The principles on which the rate of this remuneration 
is justly fixed, are these : The borrower pays, first, for 
the use ; and, secondly, for the risk. 

1. For the use. 

Capital is more useful, that is, it is capable of pro- 
ducing a greater remuneration, at some times than at 
otners. Thus a flour-mill in some seasons is more 
productive than in others. Land in some places is ca- 
pable of yielding a greater harvest than in others. And 
thus at different times the same property may be ca- 
pable of bringing in a very different income. And in 
general, where the amount of capital to be loaned is 
great, and the number of those who want to borrow 
small, the interest will be low ; and where the number 
of borrowers is great, and the amount of capital small, 
the rate of interest will be high. The reasons of all 
tins are too obvious to need illustration. 

2. For the risk. 

When an owner parts with his property, it is put 

under the control of the borrower, and passes, of course, 

beyond the control of the owner. Here there arses a 

risk over which lie has no control. It varies with the 

22 



254 PEACTICAL ETHICS. 

character of the borrower for prudence and skill, and 
with the kind of business in which he is engaged. 
Property in ships is exposed to greater risk than prop- 
erty in land. A man would consider the chance of 
having his property returned much better, if employed 
in the building of dwelling-houses than in the manu- 
fiicture of gunpowder. Now, as all these circumstances 
of risk may enter more or less into every loan, it is 
evident that they must, in justice, vary the rate at which 
a loan may be procured. The risk is frequently re- 
moved by the custom of endorsing. Here another 
guarantees for the borrower the payment of his note. 
If the endorser be good, there is then no risk to be paid 
for. The endorser who assumes the risk is, however, 
entitled to a fair remuneration. 

Hence I think that the rate of interest of every sort, 
being liable to so many circumstances of variation, 
should not in any case be fixed by law, but should be 
left in all cases to the discretion of the parties concerned. 

This remark applies as well to loans of money as to 
loans of other property, because the reasons apply just 
as much to these as to any other. If it be said men 
may charge exorbitant interest, I reply, so they may 
charge exorbitant rent for houses, and exorbitant hire 
for horses. And I ask. How is this evil of exorbitant 
charges in other cases remedied ? The answer is plain. 
We allow a perfectly free competition, and then the 
man who will not loan his property unless at an exor- 
bitant price, is underbidden, and his own rapacity de- 
feats and punishes itself. 

And, on the contrary, by fixing a legal rate of interest, 
we throw the whole community into the power of those 
who are willing to violate the law. For, as soon as the 
actual value of money is more than the legal value, 
those who consider themselves under obligation to obey 
the laws of the land, will not loan ; for they can employ 
their property to better advantage. Hence, if all wore 
obedient to the law, as soon as property arrived at this 
point of value, loans would instantly and universally 
cease. But as some persons are willing to evade the 



VIOLATION OF THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. 255 

law, they will loan at iUegal interest; and as the capital 
of those who are conscientious is withdrawn from the 
market, and an artificial scarcity is thus produced, those 
who are not conscientious have it in their power to 
charo-e whatever thev choose. 

Again : when we pay for money loaned, we pay, first, 
for the use, and second, for the risk ; that is, we pay 
literally a premium of insurance. As both of these 
vary with diiference of time, and with different indi- 
viduals, there is a double reason for variation in the 
rate of interest. When we have a house insured, we 
pay only for the risk ; and hence there is here only a 
single cause of variation. But while all governments 
have fixed the rate of interest by law, they have never 
fixed the rate of insurance ; which, being less variable, 
is more properly subject to a fixed rule. This is surely 
inconsistent ; is it not also unjust ? 

Nevertheless, for the sake of avoiding disputes and 
errors of ignorance, it might be wnse for society to enact 
by law what shall be the rate of interest in cases where 
no rate is otherwise specified. This is the extent of its 
proper jurisdiction ; and doing anything further is, I 
think, not only injurious to the interests of the com 
munity, but also a violation of the right of property. 
While, however, I hold this to be true, I by no means 
hold that, the laws remaining as they are, any individ- 
ual is justified in taking or giving more than the legal 
rate of interest. When conscience does not forbid, it is 
the business of a good citizen to obey the laws ; and the 
faithful obedience to an unwise law is generally the 
surest way of working its overthrow. 

We shall now proceed to consider the laws which 
govern this mode of tfansfer of property. 

The loan of money. 

1. The lender is bound to demand no more than a 
fair remuneration for the use of his capital, and for the 
risk to which it is exposed. 

2. He is bound to make use of no unlawful means 
to influence the decision of the borrower. The princi- 
ples here are the same as those wliich should govera 



256 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

the permanent exchange of property. All rumors and 
false alarms, and all combinations of capitalists to raise 
by a monopoly the price of money, are manifestly dis- 
honest ; nor are they the less so because many persons 
may enter into them, or because they have the skill or 
the power to evade the laws of the land. 

3. The borrower is bound to pay a just equivalent, 
as I have stated above ; and he is equally forbidden to 
use any dishonest motives to influence the decision of 
the lender. 

4. Inasmuch as the risk of the property is one part of 
the consideration for which the owner receives remuner- 
ation, and as this is in every case supposed to be a spe- 
cified quantity, the borrower has no right to expose the 
property of another to any risk not contemplated in the 
contract. Hence he has no right to invest it in a more 
hazardous trade, or to employ it in a more hazardous 
speculation, than that for which he borrowed it ; and 
if he do, he is using it in a manner for which he has 
paid no equivalent. He is also under obligation to take 
all the care to avoid losses which he would take if the 
property were his own ; and to use the same skill to 
conduct his affairs successfully. When, however, the 
risk is removed by endorsing, so far as the lender is 
concerned, he may use it at his discretion. 

5. He is also bound to repay the loan exactly accord- 
ing to the terms specified in the contract. This requires 
that he pay the full sum promised, and that he pay it 
precisely at the time promised. A failure, in either 
case, is a breach of the contract. 

The question is often asked, whether a debtor is mor- 
ally liberated by an act of insolvency. I think not, if 
he ever afterwards have the means of repayment. It 
may be said, this is oppressive to debtors ; but, we ank, 
is not the contrary principle oppressive to creditors? 
and are not the rights of one party just as valuable, and 
just as much rights, as those of the other ? It may 
also be remarked that, were this principle acted upon, 
there would be fewer debtors, and vastly fewer insol- 
vents. The amount of money actually lost by insol- 



VIOLATION OF THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. 257 

veucy is absolutely enormous ; and it is generally lost 
by causeless, reckless speculation, by cbilclisli and inex- 
cusable extravagance, or by gambling and profligacy, 
wbicli are all stimulated into activity by tbe facility of 
credit, and tbe readiness witli wliich debts may be can- 
celled by acts of insolvency. The more rigidly contracts 
are observed, tbe more rapidly will the capital of a 
country increase, the greater will be the inducements 
to industry, and the stronger will be the barriers against 
extravao'ance and vice. 

Of the loan of other property. 

The principles which apply in this case are very sim- 
ilar to those which have been already stated. 

1. The lender is bound to furnish an article which, 
so far as he knows, is adapted to the purposes of the 
borrower ; that is, if the thing borrowed has any in- 
ternal defect, he is bound to reveal it. If I loan a 
horse to a man who wishes to ride forty miles to-day, 
which I know is able to go but thirty, it is a fraud. If 
I let to a man a house which I know to be in the neigh- 
borhood of a nuisance, or to be in part uninhabitable 
from smoky chimneys, and do not inform him, it is 
fraud. The loss in the value of the property is mine, 
and I have no right to transfer it to another. 

2. So the lender has a right to charge the market 
price arising from the considerations of use, risk, and 
variation in supply and demand. This depends upon 
the same principles as those already explained. 

3. The borrower is bound to take the same care of 
the property of another as he would of his own ; to 
put it to no risk different from that specified or under- 
stood in the contract ; and to pay the price, upon the 
principle stated above. Neither party has any right to 
influence the othet by any motives extraneous to the 
simple business of the transfer. 

4. The borrower is bound to return the property 
loaned precisely according to the contract. This iri- 
cludes both time and condition. He must return it at 
the time specified, and in the condition in which ho 
received it, ordinary wear and tear only excepted. K 

22* 



2n8 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

1 hire a house for a year, and so damage 'its pa{)er and 
paint that, before it can be let again, it will cost half the 
price of the rent to put it in repair, it is a gross fraud. 
I have by negligence, or other cause, defrauded the 
owner of half his rent. It is just as immoral as to 
pay him the whole, and then pick his pocket of the 
half of what he had received. 

The important question arises here, If a loss happen 
while the property is in the hands of the borrower, on 
whom shall it fall ? The principle I suppose to be this : 

1. If it happen while the property is subject to the 
use specified in the contract, the owner bears it ; because 
it is to be supposed that he foresaw the risk, and re- 
ceived remuneration for it. As he was paid for the 
risk, he of course has assumed it, and justly suffers it. 

2. If the loss happen in consequence of any use not 
contemplated in the contract, then the borrower suffers 
it. He having paid nothing for insurance against this 
risk, there is nobody but himself to sustain it, and he 
sustains it accordingly. Besides, were any other prin- 
ciple adopted, it must put an end to the whole business 
of loaning ; for no one would part with his property 
temporarily, to be used in any manner the borrower 
pleased, and be himself responsible for all the loss. 
If a horse die while I am using it well, and for the 
purpose specified, the owner suffers. If it die by care- 
less driving, I suffer the loss. He is bound to furnish 
a good horse, and I a competent driver. 

3. So, on the contrary, if a gain arise unexpectedly. 
If this gain was one which was contemplated in tli& 
contract, it belongs to the borrower. If not, he has no 
equitable claim to it. If I hire a farm, I am entitled, 
without any additional charge for rent, to all the ad- 
vantages arising from the rise in the priceV)f wheat, or 
from my own skill in agriculture. But if a mine of 
coal be discovered on the farm, I have no right to tlie 
benefit of working it, for I did not hire the farm for 
this purpose. 

The case of insurance. 

Here no transfer of property is made, and, of course, 



VIOLATION OF THE EIGHT OF PROPEUTT. 259 

nothing is paid for vise. But tlie owner cbooses to 
transfer the risk of use from himself to others, and to 
pay for their assuming this risk a stipulated equiva- 
lent. The loss to society, of property insured, is just 
the same as when it is uninsured. A town is just 
as much poorer when property is destroyed that is 
insured, provided it be insured in the town, as though 
no insurance were effected. The only difference is, 
that the loss is equalized. Ten men can more easily 
replace one hundred dollars apiece, who have nine 
hundred remaining, than the eleventh can replace his 
whole property of one thousand. 

The rule in this case is simple. The insured is 
bound fully to reveal to the insurer every circumstance 
within his knowledge which could in any measure af- 
fect the value of the risk ; that is to say, the property 
must be, so far as he knows, what it purports to be, 
and the risks none other than sucli as he reveals them. 
If he expose the property to other risks, the insurance 
is void ; and the underwriter, if the property be lost, 
refuses to remunerate him ; and if it be safe, he re- 
turns the premium. If the loss occur within the terms 
of the policy, the insurer is bound fully and faithfully 
to make remuneration, precisely according to the terms 
of the contract. 

As to the rate of insurance, very little need be said. 
It varies with every risk, and is made up of so many 
conflicting circumstances, that it must be agreed upon 
by the parties themselves. When the market in this 
species of traffic is unrestrained by monopolies, the 
price of insurance, like that of any other commodity, 
will regulate itself. 

Part III. The case next to be considered is that 
in which the equivalent is immaterial ; as where one 
party pays remuneration for some service rendered by 
the other. 

The principal cases here are these : That of master 
and servant, and that of principal and agent. 

1. Of master and servant. 



260 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

a. The master is bound to allow to the servant a 
fair remuneration. This is justly estimated by uniting 
the considerations of labor, skill, and fidelity, varied by 
the rise and fall of the price of such labor in the mar- 
ket. As this, however, would be liable to inconvenient 
fluctuation, it is generally adjusted by a rate agreed 
upon by the parties. 

h. He is bound to allow him all the privileges to 
which moral law or established usage entitles him, 
unless something different from the latter has been stip- 
ulated in the contract ; and he is at liberty to require 
of him service upon the same principles. 

c. The servant is bound to perform the labor as- 
signed him by usage or by contract (matters of con- 
science only excepted), with all the skill which he 
possesses, making the interests of the employer his own. 
If either party fail, — that is, if the master demand 
service for which he does not render compensation, or 
if the servant receive wages for which he does not 
render the stipulated equivalent, — there is a violation 
of the right of property. Thus, also, there is a viola- 
tion of right if the master do not fulfil the terms of 
the contract just as it was made ; as, for instance, if he 
do not pay a servant punctually. When the service is 
performed, the wages belong to the servant, and the 
master has no more right to them than to the property 
of any one else. Thus saith St. James : " The hire of 
your laborers that have reaped your fields, that is kept 
hack by fraud, crieth, and the cry is come into the ears 
of the Lord of Sabaoth." And, on the contrary, the 
servant is bound to use his whole skill and economy in 
managing the property of his master ; and if he destroy 
it by negligence or fault, he ought to make restitution. 

2. Of principal and agent. 

It frequently happens that, in the transaction of busi- 
oess, duties devolve upon an individual which are to 
be discharged in different places at the same time. In 
other cases, in consequence of the division of labor, he 
requires something to be done for him which another 
person can do better than himself. In both cases. 



TIOLATION OF THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. 2G1 

either from necessity, or for his owii convenience and 
interest, he employs other men as agents. 

Agencies are of two kinds ; firsts where the principal 
simply employs another to fulfil his own (that is, the- 
principal's) will. Here the principal's will is the rule, 
both as to the object to be accomplished, and the man- 
ner in which, and the means whereby, it is to be ac- 
complished. Second!?/, where the principal designates 
only the objects to be accomplished, reposing special 
trust in the skill and fidelity of the agent as to the 
means by which it is to be accomplished. Such I sup- 
pose to be the case in regard to professional assistance. 

The laws on this subject respect, first, the relation 
existing between the principal and the community; 
and, second!?/, the relation existing between the prin- 
cipal and agent. 

I. The principal is bound by the acts of the agent 
while the agent is employed in the business for which 
the principal has engaged him ; but he is responsible 
no further. 

Thus, it is known that a merchant employs a clerk 
to receive money on his account. For his clerk's 
transactions in this part of his affairs he is responsible ; 
but he would not be responsible if money were paid to 
his porter or coachman, because he does not employ 
them for this purpose. Hence, if the clerk be unfaith- 
ful, and secrete the money, the merchant suffers : if the 
coachman receive the money, and be unfaithful, the 
payer sufiers. It is the merchant's business to employ 
suitable agents ; but it is the business of his customers 
to apply to those agents only whom he has employed. 

An important question arises here, namely, When 
is it to be understood that a principal has employed an 
agent ? It is generally held that, if the principal ac- 
knowledge himself responsible for the acts of the agent, 
he is hereafter held to be responsible for similar acts, 
until he gives notice to the contrary. 

H. Laws arising from the relation subsisting between 
the principal and the agent. 

1. The laws respectuig compensation are the same as 



'2^2 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

those already specified, and therefore need not be re- 
peated. 

2. The agent is bound to give the same care to the 
• affairs of the principal as to his own. He is another 
eelf, and should act in that capacity. The necessity of 
this rule is apparent from the fact that no other rule 
could be devised, either by which the one party would 
know what justly to demand, or the other when the 
demands of justice were fulfilled. 

Hence, if an agent do not give all the care to the 
affairs of his principal that he would do to his own, and 
loss occur, he ought to sustain it. If a lawyer lose a 
cause through negligence or palpable ignorance, he 
ought, in justice, to suffer the consequences. He re- 
ceives fees for conducting the cause to the best of his 
ability, and, by undertaking to conduct it, puts it out 
of the power of the client to employ any one else. 
Thus, if he neglect it, and by neglecting it his client is 
worse off than if he had not undertaken it, he accepts 
fees for really injuring his neighbor. He ought to bear 
the loss which has occurred by his own fault. 

A question frequently arises here of considerable im- 
portance. It is. When is he obliged to obey the in- 
structions of his principal, and when is he obliged to 
act without regard to them ? Although this question 
comes only indirectly under the right of property, it 
may be as well to notice it here as anywhere else. 

The question, I suppose, is to be answered by decid 
ing to which of the above specified kinds of agencies 
the case to be considered belongs. 

1. If it be simple agency, — that is, where the agent 
undertakes merely to execute the will of the principal, 
and in the manner and by the means specified by the 
principal, — he must obey implicitly (conscience only ex- 
cepted), unless some fact material to the formation of a 
judgment has come to light, after giving the order, 
which, if known, would have necessarily modified the 
intention of the principal. This is the law of the mili- 
tary service. Here, even when the reason for disobe- 
dience of orders is ever so clear, and an agent disobeys, 



TIOLATIOX OF THE EIGHT OF PKOPERTY. 203 

he do?s it at Lis own risk ; and hence the modifying 
facts should be obvious and explicit in order to justify 
a variation from the instructions. 

2. When the agency is of the other kind, and the 
will of the principal is only supposed to direct the end, 
while the means and manner are to be decided upon by 
the professional skill of the agent, I suppose that the 
agent is not bound to obey the directions of his princi- 
pal. He is supposed to loiow more on the subject, and 
to be better able to decide what will benefit his principal 
than the principal himself ; and he has no right to in 
jure another man, even if the other man desire it ; nor 
has he a right to lend himself as an instrument by which 
another man, by consequence of his ignorance, shall 
injure himself. Besides, every man has a professional 
reputation to sustain, on which his means of living de- 
pend. He has no right to injure this for the sake of 
gratifying another, especially when, by so gratifying 
the other, he shall ruin himself also. A physician has 
no right to give his patient drugs which will poison him, 
because a patient wishes it. A lawyer has no right to 
bring a cause into court in such a manner as will insure 
the loss of it, because his client insists upon it. The 
professional agent is bound to conduct the business of 
his profession to the best of his ability. This is the end 
of his responsibility. If it please his client, well. If 
not, the relation must cease, and the principal must 
find another agent. 

A representative in Congress is manifestly an agent 
of the latter of these two classes. He is chosen on 
account of his supposed legislative ability. Hence ho 
is a strictly professional agent, and on these princij)le& 
he is under no obligation to regard the instructions of 
his constituents. He is merely bound to promote theii 
best interests ; but the manner of doing it is to be decided 
by his superior skill and ability. 

But, secondly, is he bound tc resign his seat if ho 
differ from them in opinion ? This is a question to bo 
decided by the constitution of the country under which 
he acts. Sociot]^ that is, the whole nation, have a right 



2GJ PRACTICAL ETHICS 

to form a government as tliey will, and to choose repre- 
sontatives during good behavior, — that is, for as long a 
time as they and their representatives entertain the 
same views, — or, setting aside this mode for reasons 
which may seem good to themselves, to elect thorn for 
a certain period of service. Now, if they have chosen 
tlio latter mode, they have bound themselves to abidj 
hj it, and have abandoned the former. If they elect 
him during pleasure, he is so elected. If they, on the 
contrary, elect him for two years or for six years, he is 
so elected. And, so far as I can discover, here the 
question rests. It is in the power of society to alter 
the tenure of office if they please ; but, until it be al- 
tered, neither party can claim anything more or different 
from what that tenure actually and virtually expresses. 
Here, however, it is understood that the representative 
is, in good faith, using his best skill for the good of his 
constituents. If he act differently, from selfishness or 
venality, he has violated the conditions on which he 
was elected, and is bound to resign immediately. 



SECTION III. 

THE EIGHT OF PROPERTY AS VIOLATED BY SOCIETY. 

I have already stated that whatever a man possesses, 
he possesses exclusively of every man and of all men. 
^e has a right to use his property in such a manner as 
will promote his own happiness, provided he do not 
interfere with the rights of others. But with this right 
society may interfere, as well as individuals ; and the 
injury is here the greater, inasmuch as it is remediless. 
In this world the individual knows of no power superior 
to society, and from its decisions, even when unjust, he 
has no appeal. A few suggestions on this part of the 
subject will close the present cliapter. 

I have mentioned that the individiial has a right to 



RIGHT OF PROPERTY AS VIOLATED BY SOCIETY. 2G5 

use liis property, innocently, as he will, exclusively of 
any man or of all men. It is proper to stat^ here that 
this right is apparently modified by his becoming a 
member of society. When men form a civil society, 
they mutually agree to confer upon the individual cer- 
tain benefits upon certain conditions. But as these 
Ijenefits cannot be attained without incurring some ex- 
penses, — as, for instance, those of courts of justice, legis- 
lation, etc., — it is just that every individual who enters 
the society, and thus enjoys these benefits, should pay 
his portion of the expense. By becoming a member of 
society he renders himself answerable for his portion of 
that burden, without the incurring of which society 
could not exist. He demands the benefit of laws and 
of protection; but he has no, right to demand what 
other men have purchased, unless he will pay for it an 
equitable price. 

From these principles it will follow that society has a 
natural right to require every individual to contribute 
his portion of those expenses necessary to the existence 
of society. 

Besides these, however, the members of a society have 
the power to agree together to contribute for objects 
which, if not essential to the existence, are yet impor- 
tant to the well-being of society. If they so agree, they 
are bound to fulfil this agreement ; for a contract be- 
tween the individual and society is as binding as one 
between individual and individual. Hence, if such an 
agreement be made, society has a right to enforce it. 
This, however, by no means decides the question of the 
original wisdom of any particular compact ; much less 
is it meant to be asserted that the individual is bound 
by the acts of a majority, when that majority has ex- 
ceeded its power. These subjects belong to a subse- 
quent chapter. What is meant to be asserted here is, 
that there may arise cases in which society may right- 
fully oblige the individual to contribute for purposes 
which are not absolutely necessary to the existence of 
society, as for education, making roads, etc. 

Whatever, however, is not necessary to the existence 
23 



I 



V 



266 PEACTICAL ETHICS. 

of society, is not in the power of society, unL^ss it has 
been conferred npon it by the will of the individual 
That this is the rule is evident from the necessity of the 
case. No other rule could be devised which would not 
put the property of the individual wholly in the power 
of society ; or, in other words, absolutely destroy the 
liberty of the individual. 

If such be the facts, it will follow that society has a 
right over the property of the individual for all pur- 
poses necessary to the existence of society; and, sec- 
ondly, in all respects in which the individual has con- 
ferred that power, but only for the purposes for which 
it was conferred. 

And hence, 1. It is the duty of the individual to hold 
his property always subject to these conditions; and, 
for such purposes, freely to contribute his portion of 
that expense for which he, in common with others, is 
receiving an equivalent. No one has any more right 
than another to receive a consideration without making 
a remuneration. 

2. The individual has a right to demand that no im- 
positions be laid upon him, unless they come under the 
one or the other of these classes. 

3. He has a right to demand that the burdens of 
society be laid upon individuals according to some equi- 
table law. This law should be founded, as nearly as 
possible, upon the principle that each one should pay 
in proportion to the benefits which he receives from the 
protection of society. As these benefits are either per- 
sonal or pecuniary, and as those which are personal are 
equal, it would seem just that the variation should be 
in proportion to property. 

If these principles be just, it is evident that society 
may violate the right of individual property in the fol- 
lowing ways : 

1. By taking through the means of government, 
which is its agent, the property of the individual, arbi- 
trarily, or merely by the will of the executive. Such is 
sometimes the nature of exactions in despotic govern- 
ments. 



RIGHT OF PROPERTY AS VIOLATED BY SOCIETY. 267 

2. When, by arbitrary will or by law, it takes the 
property of the individual for purposes which, whether 
good or bad, are not necessary to the existence of soci- 
ety, when the individuals of society have not consented 
that it be so appropriated. This consent is never to be 
presumed, except in the case of necessary expenditures, 
as has been shown. Whenever this plea cannot be made 
good, society has no right to touch the property of the 
individual, unless it can show the constitutional provis- 
ior.. Were our government to levy a tax to build 
churches, it would avail nothing to say that churches 
were wanted, or that the good of society demanded it ; 
it would be an invasion of the right of property, until 
the article in the constitution could be shown granting 
to the government power over property for this very 
purpose. 

3. Society, even when the claim is just, may violate 
the rights of the individual by adopting an inequitable 
rule in the distribution of the public burdens. Every 
individual has an equal right to employ his property 
unmolested, in just such manner as will innocently 
promote his own happiness ; that is, it is to society a 
matter of indifference in what way he employs it. Pro- 
vided it be innocent, it does not come within the view 
of society. Hence, in this respect, all modes of employ- 
ing it are equal. And the only question to be consid 
erod, in adjusting the appropriation, is, How much does 
he ask society to protect ? And by this rule it should, as 
we have said before, be adjusted. If, then, besides this 
rule, another be adopted, and an individual be obliged, 
besides his pro rata proportion, to bear a burden levied 
on his particular callings to the exemption of another^ 
he has a right to complain. He is forced to bear a 
double burden, and one portion of the burden is laid 
for a cause over which society professes itself to have 
no jurisdiction. 

4. Inasmuch as the value of property depends upon 
the unrestrained use which I am allowed to make of it 
for the promotion of my individual happiness, society 
interferes with the right of property if it in any man- 



268 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

ncr abridge any of these. One man is i-endered happy 
by accumulation, another by benevolence ; one by pro* 
moting science, another by promoting religion. Each 
one has a right to use what is his own exactly as he 
pleases. And if society interfere, by directing the 
manner in which he shall appropriate it, it is an act of 
injustice. It is as great a violation of property, for 
instance, to interfere with the purpose of the individual 
in the appropriation of his property for religious pur- 
poses, as it is to enact that 'a farmer shall keep but three 
cows, or a manufacturer employ but ten workmen. 



CHAPTER III. 

JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER. 



Character is the present intellectual, social, and 
moral condition of an individual. It compreliends his 
actual acquisitions, his capacities, his habits, his tenden- 
cies, his moral feelings, and everything which enters 
into a man's state for the present, or his powers for 
attaining to a better state in the future. 

That character, in this sense, is by far the most im- 
portant of all the possessions which a man can call his 
own, is too evident to need discussion. It is the source 
of all that he either suffers or enjoys here, and of all 
that he either fears or hopes for hereafter. 

If such be the fact, benevolence would teach iis the 
obligation to do all in our power to improve the charac- 
ter of our neighbor. This is its chief office. This is 
the great practical aim of Christianity. Reciprocity 
merely prohibits the infliction of any injury upon tlie 
cliaracter of another. 

Tlie reasons of this prohibition are obvious. No man 
can injure his own character without violating the laws 
of God, and also creating those tendencies which result 
ill violation of the laws of man. He who in any man- 
ner becomes voluntarily the cause of this violation is 
a partaker — and not unfrequently the largest pai- 
taker — in the guilt. As he who tempts another to 
suicide is, in the sight of God, guilty of murder, so he 
who instigates another to wickedness, by producing 
those states of mind which necessarily lead to it, is in 
the sight of God held responsible in no slight degi'ce 
for the result. 

23* 



270 PRACTICAL ^.TinCS. 

Again: consider the motives wliicli lead men to injure 
the character of each other. These are either pure 
malice or reckless self-gratification. 

First, malice. Some men so far transcend the ordi- 
nary limits of human depravity as to derive a truly fiend- 
like pleasure from alluring and seducing from the paths 
of virtue the comparatively innocent, and to exult over 
the moral desolations which they have thus accomplished. 
" They will compass sea and land to make one proselyte, 
'and when he is made, they make him twofold more the 
child of hell than themselves." It is scarcely neces- 
sary to add, that language has no terms of moral indig- 
nation that are capable of branding with adequate 
infamy conduct so intensely vicious. It is wickedness, 
without excuse, and without palliation. Or, secondly, 
take the more favorable case. One man wishes to 
accomplish some purpose of self-gratification, to indulge 
his passions, to increase his power, or to feed his vanity ; 
and he proceeds to accomplish that purpose by moans 
of rendering another immortal and accountable moral 
creature degraded forever, — a moral pest henceforth 
on earth, and both condemned, and the cause of con- 
demnation to others, throughout eternity. Who has 
given this wretch a right to work so awful a ruin among 
God's creatures for the gratification of a momentary 
and an unholy desire ? And will not the Judge of all, 
when he maketh inquisition for blood, press to the lips 
of such a sinner the bitterest dregs of the cup of trem- 
bhng ? 

With this all the teaching of the sacred Scriptures 
is consonant. The most solemn maledictions in the 
holy Scriptures are uttered against those who have 
been the instruments of corrupting others. In the Old 
Testament, Jeroboam is signalized as a sinner of un- 
paralleled atrocity, because he made Israel to sin. In 
the New Testament, the judgment of the Pharisees has 
been already alluded to. And again, " Whosoever shall 
break the least of these commandments, and shall teach 
men so, shall bo called least in the kingdom of heaven." 
By comparison with the preceding verse, the meaning 



JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHAEACTEK. 271 

of this passage is seen to be, that as the doing anil 
teaching the commandments of God is the great proof 
of virtue, so the breaking them, and the teaching others 
to break them, is the great proof of vice. And in the 
Revehition, where God is represented as taking signal 
vengeance upon Babylon, it is because '' she did corrupt 
the earth with her wickedness." 

The moral precept on this subject, then, is briefly 
this. We are forbidden, for any cause, or under any 
pretence, or in any manner, willingly to vitiate the 
character of another. 

This prohibition may be violated in two ways : 

1. By weakening the moral restraints of men. 

2. By exciting their evil passions. 

I. By weakexixg tke mok-iL kesteaixts of mex. 

It has been abeady shown that the passions of men 
were intended to be restrained by conscience, and that 
the restraining power of conscience is increased by the 
doctrines and motives derived from natural and revealed 
religion. Whoever, therefore, in any manner renders 
obtuse the moral sensibilities of others, or diminishes 
the power of that moral truth by which these sensibil 
ities are rendered operative, inflicts permanent injury 
upon the character of his fellow-men. This also is done 
by all wicked example ; for, as we have seen before, the 
sight of wickedness weakens the power of conscience 
over us. It is done when, either by conversatioji or 
by writing, the distinctions between right and wrong 
are treated with open scorn or covert contempt ; by all 
conduct calculated to render inoperative the sanctions 
of religion, as profanity, or Sabbath-breaking ; by ridi- 
cule of the obligations of morality and religion, under 
the names of superstition, priestcraft, prejudices of 
education ; or by presenting to men such views of the 
character of God as would lead them to believe that he 
cares very little about the moral actions of his creatures, 
but is willing that every one shall live as he chooses ; 
and that, therefore, the self-denials of virtue are only a 
form of gratuitous, self-inflicted torture. 

It is against this form of moral injury that the young 



272 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

need to be specially upon their guard. Tlie moral se^ 
ducer, if he be a practised villain, corrupts the princi- 
ples of his victim before he attempts to influence his or 
her practice. It is not until the moral restraints are 
silently removed, and the heart left defenceless, that he 
presents the allurements of vice, and goads the passions 
to madness. His task is then easy. If he have suc- 
ceeded in the first effort, he will rarely fail in the sec- 
ond. Let every young man, especially every young 
woman, beware of listening for a moment to any con- 
versation of which the object is to show that the re- 
straints of virtue are unnecessary, or to diminish in 
aught the reverence and obedience which are due from 
the creature to tlie law of the Creator. 

II. We injure the characters of men by exciting to 

ACTION THEIR EVIL DISPOSITIONS. 

1. By viciouslij stimulating their imaginations. No 
one is corrupt in action until he has become corrupt 
in imagination. And, on the other hand, he who has 
filled his imagination with conceptions of vice, and who 
loves to feast his depraved moral appetite with imagin- 
ary scenes of impurity, needs but the opportunity to 
become openly abandoned. Hence one of the most 
nefarious means of corrupting men is to spread before 
them those images of pollution by which they will in 
secret become familiar with sin. Such is the guilt of 
those who write, or publish, or sell or lend vicious 
books, under whatever name or character ; and of those 
who engrave, or publish, or sell, or lend, or exhibit 
obscene or lascivious pictures. Few instances of human 
depravity are marked by deeper atrocity than that of 
an author or a publisher who, from literary vanity or 
sordid love of gain, pours forth over society a stream of 
moral pollution, either in prose or in poetry. 

And yet there are not only men who will do this, but, 
what is worse, there are women also, who, if the culprit 
have possessed talent, will commend it, and even weep 
tears of sympathy over the infatuated genius who wa'j 
so sorely persecuted by that unfeeling portion of the 
world who would not consider talent synonymous with 



JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER. 275 

virtue, and who could not applaud the effort of that 
ability which was exerted only to multiply the victims 
of vice. 

2. By ministering to the appetites of others. Such 
is the relation of the power of appetite to that of con- 
science, that, where no positive allurements to vice are 
set before men, conscience will frequently retain its 
ascendency. While, on the other hand, if allurement 
be added to the power of appetite, reason and conscience 
prove a barrier too feeble to resist -their combined and 
vicious tendency. Hence he who presents the allure- 
ments of vice before others, who procures and sets be- 
fore them the means of vicious gratification, is in a 
great degree responsible for the mischief which he 
produces. Yiolations of this law occur in most cases 
of immoral traffic, as in the sale and manufacture of 
intoxicating liquors, the sale of opium to the Chinese, 
etc. Under the same class is also comprehended the 
case of female prostitution. 

3. By using others to minister to our vicious appetites. 
We cannot use others as ministers to our vices without 
rendering them corrupt, and frequently inflicting an 
incurable wound upon their moral nature. For the 
sake of a base and wicked mo-mentary gratiiication, the 
vicious man willingly ruins forever an immortal being, 
^vho was, but for him, innocent ; and, yet more, not 
unfrequently considers this ruin a matter of triumph. 
Such is the case in seduction and adultery, and, in a 
modified degree, in all manner of lewdness and profli- 
gacy. 

4. By cherishing the evil passions of men. By pas- 
sion, in distinction from appetite, I mean the spiritual 
in opposition to the corporeal desires. It frequentlj" 
happens that we wish to influence men who cannot be 
moved by an appeal to their reason or conscience, but 
who can be easily moved by an appeal to their ambition, 
then* avarice, their party zeal, their pride, or their van- 
ity. An acquaintance with these peculiarities of indi- 
viduals is frequently called luiderstanding human nature^ 
knowing the v:eak sides of men, and is by many per- 



274 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

sons considered the grand means for great and masterly 
effect. But lie can have but little practical acquaint- 
ance with a conscience void of offence who does not 
instinctively feel that such conduct is unjust, mean, and 
despicable. It is accomplishing our purposes by means 
of the moral degradation of him of whom we profess to 
be the friends. ( It is manifestly doing a man a greater 
injury than simply to rob him. j If we stole his money, 
he would be injured only by being made poorer. If we 
procure his services or his money in this manner, we 
also make him poorer ; and we, besides, cultivate those 
evil dispositions which already expose him to sharpers, 
and also render him more odious to the God before 
whom he must shortly stand. 

Nor do the ordinary excuses on this subject avail. It 
may be said, men would not give to benevolent objects 
but from these motives. Suppose it true. What if 
they did not ? They would be as well off morally as 
they are now. A man is no better, after having refused 
from avarice, who at length gives from vanity. His 
avarice is no better, and his vanity is even worse. It 
may be said the cause of benevolence coij.ld not be 
sustained without it. Then, I say, let the cause of 
benevolence perish. God never meant one part of his 
creatures to be relieved by our inflicting moral injury 
upon another. If there be no other way of sustaining 
benevolence, God did not mean that benevolence should 
be sustained. But it is not so. The appeal to men's 
better feelings is the proper appeal to be made to men. 
It will, when properly made, generally succeed ; and if 
it do not, our responsibility is at an end. 

1 cannot leave, this subject without urging it upon 
those who are engaged in promoting the objects of 
benevolent associations. It seems to me that no man 
has a right to present any other than an innocent motive 
to urge his fellow-men to action. Motives derived from 
party zeal, from personal vanity, from love of applause, 
however covertly insinuated, are not of this character. 
If a man, by exciting such feelings, sell me a horse at 
twice its value, he would be a sharper. If lie excita 



JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS CHARACTER. 275 

me to g'ive from the same motives, the action partakes 
of the same character. The cause of benevolence is 
holy : it is the cause of God. It needs not human 
chicanery to approve it to the human heart. Let him 
who advocates it, therefore, go forth strong in the 
strength of Him whose cause he advocates. Let him 
rest his cause upon its own merits, and leave every 
man's conscience to decide whether or not he Avill enlist 
in its support. And, besides, were men conscientiously 
to confine themselves to the merits of their cause, they 
would much more carefully weigh their undertakings 
before they attempted to engage others in support of 
them. Much of that fanaticism which withers the 
moral sympathies of man would thus be checked at the 
outset. 



CHAPTER IV. 

OF JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 

It has been already remarked that every man, is by 
the laws of his Creator, entitled to the physical results 
of his labor ; that is, to those results which arise from 
the operation of those laws of cause and effect which 
govern the material on which he operates. Thus, if a 
man form several trees into a house, the result of this 
labor, supposing the materials and time to be his own, 
is his own also. Thus, again, if a man study diligently, 
the amount of knowledge which he gains is at his own 
disposal, and he is at liberty innocently to use it as 
he will. And, in general, the immediate results of a 
man's industry are his own, and no' one has any right 
to interfere with them. 

But these are not the only results. There are others, 
springing from those laws of cause and effect which 
govern the opinions and actions of men towards each 
other, which are frequently of as great importance to the 
individual as the physical results. Thus, if a man have 
built a house, the house is his. But if he have done it 
well, there arises in the minds of men a certain opinion 
of his^skill, and a regard towards him on account of it, 
which may be of more value to him than even the 
house itself ; for it may be the foundation of great sub- 
sequent good fortune. The industrious student is 
entitled not merely to the use of that knowledge which 
he has acquired, but also to the estimation which the pos- 
session of that knowledge gives him among men. Now, 
these secondary and indirect results are as truly effects 
of the character and actions of the man himself, and 
they as truly belong to him, as the primary and direct 



JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 277 

results of which wo have before spoken. And hence, 
to diminish the esteem hi which a man is held by his 
fellows, '.0 detract from the reputation which he has 
thus aca aired, is as great a violation of justice, nay, it 
may be a far greater violation of justice, than robbing 
him of money. It has, moreover, the additional aggra- 
vation ^f conferring no benefit upon the aggressor be- 
yond 11 at of the gratification of a base and malignant 
envy. 

But^ it may be said, the man has a reputation greater 
than he deserves, or a reputation for that which he does 
not deserve. Have I not a right to diminish it to its 
true level ? 

SS^Q answer, The objection proceeds upon the conces- 
jion that the man has a reputation ; that is, men have 
such or such an opinion concerning him. Now, the 
rule of property, formerly mentioned, applies here. 
If a man be in possession of property, though his title 
be faulty, this gives to no one a right to seize upon that 
prope]'ty for himself, or to seize it and destroy it, unless 
he can himself show a better title. The very fact of 
possession bars every other claimant, except that claim- 
ant whom the present possessor has excluded. So, in 
this case, if this reputation injures the reputation of 
another, the other has a right to set forth his own 
clajpis ; and any one else has a right, when prompted 
by desire of doing justice to the injured, to state the 
facts as they are ; but where this element of desire to 
do justice does not enter, no man has a right to dimin- 
ish the esteem in which another is held, simply because 
he may believe the other to have more than he deserves. 

The moral rule on this subject I suppose to be this : 
We are forbidden to utter anything which will be inju- 
rious to the reputation of another, except for adequate 
cause. I say, for adequate cause, because occasions 
may occur in which it is as much our duty to speak, 
as it is at other times our duty to be silent. The con- 
sideration of these cases will be a subsequent concern. 
The precept, thus understood, applies to the cases in 
which we speak either /ro/H no sufficient motive, ovfram 
24 



278 PEACTICAL ETHICS. 

a bad motive. It is merely an extension of the great 
principle of the law of reciprocity, which commands us 
to have the same simple desire that every other man 
should enjoy unmolested the esteem in which he is held 
by men, that we have to enjoy unmolested the same 
possession ourselves. 

I do not here consider' the cases in which we utter, 
either wilfully or thoughtlessly, injurious falsehood re- 
specting another. In these cases, the guilt of lying is 
superadded to that of slander. I merely here consider 
slander by itself ; it being understood that, when what 
is asserted is false, it involves the sin of lying, besides 
the violation of the law of reciprocity, which we are 
here endeavoring to enforce. 

The precept includes several specifications. Some of 
them it may be important to enumerate. 

I. It prohibits us from giving publicity tQ the bad 
actions of men without cause. The guilt here consists 
in causelessly giving publicity. Of course it does not 
include those cases in which the man himself gives pub- 
licity to his own bad actions. He has himself dimin- 
ished his reputation, and his act becomes a part of 
public indiscriminate- information. We are at liberty 
to mention this, like any other fact, when the mention 
of it is demanded, but not to do it for the sake of 
injuring him. So, whenever his bad actions are made 
known by the providence of God, it comes under the 
same rule. Thus, I may know that a man has acted 
dishonestly. This alone does not give me liberty to 
speak of it. But if his dishonesty have been proved 
before a court of justice, it then becomes really a part 
of his reputation, and I am at liberty to speak of it in 
the same manner as of any othex- fact. Yet even here, 
if I speak of it with pleasure, or with a desire of injury, 
I do wrong. 

Some of the reasons for this rule are the following : 

1. The very act itself is injurious to the slanderer^? 
own moral character, and to that of him who lends 
himself to be his auditor. Familiaiity with wron^ 
diminishes our abhorrence of it. The coinemplation 



JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 279 

of it in others fosters the spirit of envy and uncharita- 
bleness, and leads us in the end to exult in rather 
than sorrow over the faults of others. 

2. In the present imperfect state, where every indi- 
vidual, being fallible, must fail somewhere, if every one 
were at liberty to speak of all the wrong and all the 
imperfection of every one whom he knew, society would 
soon become intolerable from the festering of universal 
ill-will. What would become of families, of friend- 
ships, of communities, if parents and children, hus- 
bands and wives, acquaintances, neighbors, and citizens, 
should proclaim every failing which they knew or heard 
of respecting each other ? Now, there can no medium 
be established between telling everything and forbid- 
ding everything to be told which is told without ade- 
quate cause. 

3. We may judge of the justice of the rule by 
applying it to ourselves. We despise the man who, 
either thoughtlessly or maliciously, proclaims what ho 
considers, either justly or unjustly, our failings. Now, 
what can be more unjust or more despicable than to. 
do that which our own conscience testifies to be unjust 
and despicable in others ? 

II. The same law forbids us to utter general conclu- 
sions respecting the characters of men, drawn from a 
particular bad action which they may have committed. 
Tliis is manifest injustice, and it includes, frequently, 
lying as well as slander. A single action is rarely de- 
cisive of character, even in respect to that department 
of character to which it belongs. A single illiberal 
action does not prove a man to be covetous, any more 
than a single act of charity proves him to be benevolent. 
How unjust, then, must it be to proclaim a man desti- 
tute of a whole class of virtues because of one failure 
in virtue ! How much more unjust, on account of 
one fault, to deny him all claim to any virtue whatso- 
ever ! Yet such is frequently the very object of calum- 
ny. And, in general, this form of vice is added to that 
just noticed. Men first, in violation of tlie law of reci- 
procity, make public the evil actions of others ; and 



280 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

then, with a malignant power of generalization, proceed 
to deny their claims, not only to a whole class of vir- 
tues, but not unfrequently to all virtue whatsoever. 
The reasons in this case are similar to those just 
mentioned. 

III. We are forbidden to judge ; that is, to assign 
unnecessarily bad motives to the actions of men. I. 
say unnecessarily, for some actions are in their nature 
such, fliat to presume a good motive is impossible. 

This rule would teach us, first, to presume no un- 
worthy motive when the action is susceptible of an 
innocent one. 

And, secondly, never to ascribe to an action which 
we confess to be good any other motive than that from 
which it professes to proceed. 

This is the rule by which we are bound to be gov- 
erned in our own private opinions of men. And if, 
from any circumstances, we are led to entertain any 
doubts of the motives of men, we are bound to retain 
these doubts within our own bosoms, unless we are 
obliged, for some sufficient reason, to disclose them. 
But if we are obliged to adopt this rule respecting our 
own opinions of others^ by how much more are we 
obliged to adopt it in the publication of our opinions ! 
If we are not allowed, unnecessarily, to suppose an 
unworthy motive, by how much less are we allowed to 
circulate it, and thus render it universally supposed ! 
" Charity thinketh no evil, rejoiccth not in iniquity." 

The reasons for this rule are obvious ; 

1. The motives of men, unless rendered evident by 
their actions, can be known to God alone. They are, 
evidently, out of the reach of man. In assigning mo- 
tives unnecessarily, we therefore undertake to assert as 
fact what we at the outset confess that we have not the 
means of knowing to be such ; which is, in itself, false- 
hood : and we do all this for the sake of gratifying a 
contemptible vanity or a wicked envy, or, what is 
scarcely less reprehensible, from a thoughtless love of 
talking. 

2. There is no offence by which we are excited to a 






JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS EEPUTATION- 281 

livelier or more just indignation, than by the misinter- 
pretation of our own motives. This quick sensitiveness 
in ourselves should admonish us of the guilt which we 
incur when we traduce the motives of others. 

IV. By the same rule we are forbidden to lessen the 
estimation in which others are held, by ridicule, mim- 
icry, or by any means by wdiich they are brought into 
contempt. No man can be greatly respected by those 
to whom he is the frequent subject of laughter. It is 
but a very imperfect excuse for conduct of this sort, to 
plead that we do not mean any harm. What do we 
mean ? Surely, reasonable beings should be prepared 
to answer this question. Were the witty calumniator 
to stand concealed, and hear himself made the subject 
of remarks precisely similar to those in which he in- 
dulges respecting others, he would have a very definite 
conception of what others mean. Let him, then, carry 
the lesson home to his own bosom. 

Nor is this evil the less for the veil under which it is 
frequently and hypocritically hidden. Men and women 
propagate slander under the cover of secrecy, supposing 
that by uttering it under this injunction the guilt is of 
course removed. But it is not so. The simple ques- 
tion is this : Does my duty either to God or to man 
require me to publish this which will injure another ? 
If it do, publish it wiierever that duty requires, and do 
it fearlessly. If it do not, it is just as great guilt to 
publish it to one as to another. We are bound, in all 
such cases, to ask ourselves the question. Am I under 
obligation to tell this fact to this person ? If not, I am 
under the contrary obligation to be silent. And still 
more. This injunction of secrecy is generally nothing 
better than the mere dictate of cowardice. We wish 
to gratify our love of detraction, but are afraid of the 
consequences to ourselves. We therefore converse un- 
der this 'injunction, that the injury to another may be 
done with impunity. And hence it is that in this 
manner the vilest and most injurious calumnies are 
generally circulated. 

And, lastly, if all this bo so, it will be readily seen 
24* 



282 PKACTICAL ETHICS. 

that a very large portion of the ordinary conversation 
of persons, even in many respects estimable is far from 
oeing innocent. How very commonly is personal char- 
acter, in all its length and breadth, the matter of ordi- 
nary conversation ! And in this discussion men seem 
to forget that they are under any other law than that 
which is administered by a judge and jury. How com- 
monly are characters dissected with apparently the only 
object of displaying the power of malignant acumen 
possessed by the operator, as though another's reputa- 
tion were made for no other purpose than the gratifi* 
cation of the meanest and most unlovely attributes of 
the human heart ! Well may we say, with the Apostle 
James, " If any man offend not in luord, the same is a 
perfect man, able to bridle the whole body." Well may 
we tremble before the declaration of the blessed Sa- 
viour : " For every idle word that men speak, they 
shall give an account in the day of judgment." 

The following extract from Bishop Wilson, on this 
subject, breathes the spirit of true Christian philan- 
thropy : " It is too true, that some evil passion or other, 
and to gratify our corruption, is the aim of most con- 
versations. We love to speak of past troubles ; hatred 
and ill-will make us take pleasure in relating the evil 
actions of our enemies. We compare, with some de- 
gree of pride, the advantages which we have over 
others. We recount, with too sensible a pleasure, the 
worldly happiness which we enjoy. This strengthens 
our passions, and increases our corruption. God grant 
that I may watch against a weakness that has such evil 
consequences ! May I never hear, and never repeat 
with pleasure, such things as may dishonor God, hurt 
my own character, or injure my neighbor ! " — Bishop 
Wilson^ s Sacra Privata. 

The precepts of the Scriptures on this subject are 
numerous and explicit. It will be necessary here to 
refer only to a few, for the sake of illustrating their 
general tendency : " Judge not, that ye be not judged : 
for v/itli what judgment yo judge, yo sliall be judged ; 
and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured 



JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATION. 283 

to you again. And wliy beholdest thou the mote that 
is in thy brother's eye, but consider est not the beam 
that is in thine own eye ? " (Matthew vii. 1-5). " Let 
all bitterness, and wrath, and clamor, and evil-speaking 
be put away from you " (Ephesians iv. 31). " Speak 
evil of no man " (Titus iii. 2). " He that will love life, 
and see good days, let him refrain his tongue from 
evil" (1 Peter iii. 10). 

See also James, third chapter, for a graphic delinea 
tion of the miseries produced by the unlicensed use of 
the tongue. 

Secondhj. I have thus far considered the cases in 
which silence respecting the evil actions of others is 
our duty. It is our duty when we have no just cause 
either for speaking at all or for speaking to the partic- 
ular person whom we address. But where there is a 
sufficient cause, we are under an equally imperative 
obligation to speak, wherever and whenever that cause 
shall demand it. The common fault of men is, that 
they speak when they should be silent, and are silent 
only when they should speak. 

The plain distinction in this case is the following : 
We are forbidden causelessly to injure another, even if 
he have done wrong. Yet, whenever justice can be 
done, or innocence protected, in no other manner than 
by a course which must injure him, we are under no 
such prohibition. No man has a right to expect to do 
wrong with impunity ; much less has he a right to 
expect that, in order to shield him from the just con- 
sequences of his actions, injustice should be done to 
others, or that other men shall by silence deliver up the 
innocent and unvv^ary into his power. 

The principle by which we are to test our own motives, 
in speaking of that Avhich may harm others, is this : 
When we utter anything which will harm another, and 
wo do it either without cause, or with pleasure, or 
tlioughtlessly, we are" guilty of calumny. When we do 
it vv'ith pain and sorrow for the jffendcr, and from tlie 
sincere motive of protecting the innocent^ of promoting 
the ends of public justice^ ov for the good of the offender 



284 PRACTICAL ETmCS. 

himself^ and speak of it only to such persons anil in 
such manner as is consistent with these ends, we may 
speak of the evil actions of others, and yet be wholly 
innocent of calumny. 

We are therefore bound to speak of the faults of 
others — 

1. To promote the ends of public justice. He who 
conceals a crime against society, renders himself a party 
to the offence. We are bound here not merely to speak 
of it, but also to speak of it to the proper civil officer, 
in order that it may be brought to trial and punish- 
ment. The ordinary prejudice against informing is 
unwise and immoral. He who, from proper motives, 
informs against crime, performs an act as honorable as 
that of the judge who tries the cause, or of the juror 
who returns the verdict. That this may he done from 
improper motives, alters not the case. A judge may 
hold his office for the love of money, but this does not 
make the office despicable. 

2. To protect the innocent. When we are possessed 
of a knowledge of certain facts in a man's history, 
which, if known to a third person, would protect him 
from important injury, it may frequently be our duty 
to put that person on his guard. If A knows that B, 
under the pretence of religion, is insinuating himself 
into the good opinion of for the purpose of gaining 
control over his property, A is bound to put C upon his 
guard. If I know that a man who is ah^eady married 
is paying his addresses to a lady in another country, I 
am bound to give her the information. So if I know 
of a plan laid for the purpose of seduction, I am bound 
to make use of that knowledge to defeat it. All that is 
required here is that I know what I assert to be fact, 
and that I use it simply for the purposes specified. 

3. For the good of the offender himself. When we 
know of the crimes of another, and there is some person 
— for instance, a parent, a guardian, or instructc"*' — 
who might, by control or advice, be the means of the 
offender's reformation, it is our duty to give the neces- 
sary information. It is frequently the greatest kindness 



JUSTICE AS IT RESPECTS REPUTATIOISr. 285 

that we can manifest to both parties. TVere it more 
commonly practised, the aUurements to sin would be 
much less attractive, and the hope of success in correct- 
ing the evil habits of the young much more encourag- 
ing. No wicked person has a right to expect that the 
community will keep his conduct a secret from those 
who have a right specially to be informed of it. He 
who does so is partaker in the guilt. 

4. Though we may not be at liberty to make public 
the evil actions of another, yet no obligation exists to 
conceal his fault by maintaining towards him our former 
habits of intimacy. If we know him to be unworthy 
of our confidence or acquaintance, w^e have no right to 
act a lie, by conducting towards him in public or in 
private as though he were worthy of it. By associating 
with a man, we give to the public an assurance that we 
know of nothing to render him unworthy of our associ- 
ation. If we falsify this assurance, we are guilty of 
deception, and of a deception by which wo benefit the 
wicked at the expense of the innocent, and, so far as 
our example can do it, place the latter in the power of 
the former. And still more, if we associate, on terms 
of voluntary intimacy, with persons of known bad char- 
acter, we virtually declare that such offences constitute 
no reason why the persons in question are not good 
enough associates for us. We thus virtually become 
the patrons of their crime. 

5. From what has been remarked, Ave see what is the 
nature of an historian's duty. He has to do with facts 
which the individuals themselves have made public, or 
which have been made public by the providence of God. 
He records what has already been made known. What 
has not been made known, therefore, comes not within 
his province ; but whatever has been made known, 
comes properly within it. This latter he is bound to 
use, without either fear, favor, or affection. If, from 
party zeal or sectarian bigotry or individual partiality, 
he exaggerate or conceal or misrepresent, if he " aught 
extenuate, or set down aught in malice," he is guilty 
of calumny of the most inexcusable character. It is 



286 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

calumny perpetrated deliberately, under the guise of 
impartiality, and perpetrated in a form intended to give 
it the widest publicity and the most permanent dura- 
tion. 

These remarks have had respect, principally, to the 
publication of injurious truth or falsehood by conver- 
sation. But it will be immediately seen that they apply 
with additional force to the publication of whatever is 
injurious by the press. If it be wrong to injure my 
neighbor's reputation within the limited circle of my 
acquaintance, how much more wrong must it be to 
injure it throughout a nation ! If it be by universal 
acknowledgment mean to underrate the talents or 
vilify the character of a personal rival, how much more 
so that of a political opponent ! If it would be de- 
grading in me to do it myself, by how much is it less 
degrading to cause it to be done by others, and to honor 
or dishonor with my confidence, and reward with polit- 
ical distinction, those who do it ? Because a man is a 
political opponent, does- he cease to be a creature of 
God ; and do we cease to be under obligations to obey 
the law of God in respect to him ? Or, rather, I might 
ask, Do men think that political collisions banish the 
Deity from the throne of the universe ? Nor do these 
remarks apply to political dissensions alone. The con- 
ductor of a public press possesses no greater privileges 
than any other man, nor has he any more right than 
any other man to use, or suffer to be used, his press for 
the sake of gratifying personal pique, or avenging indi- 
vidual wrong, or holding up individuals without trial 
to public scorn. Crime against society is to be punished 
by society, and by society alon^ ; and he who conducts 
a public press has no more right, because he has the 
physical power, to inflict pain than any other individual. 
If one man may do it because he has a press, another 
may do it because he has muscular strength ; and thus 
the government of society is brought to an end. Nor 
has lie even a right to publish cases of individual vice, 
unless the providence of God has made them public 
before. While they are out of sight of tlie publiC; 



JUSTICE AS IT KESPECTS EEPUTATION. 287 

tliey are out of his sight, unless he can show that he 
has been specially appointed to perform this service. 
Alexander Hamilton, in the trial of Henry Croswell, 
unfolds the true doctrine of the liberty of the press in 
these remarkable words : " The liberty of tlie press 
consists in the right to publish, with impunity, the 
truths with good motives, and for justifiable ends, 
whether it respects governments, magistrates, or indi- 
viduals." 



CLASS I (continued), 

DUTIES TO MEN AS MEN 
VEKACIxr. 

Every individual, by necessity, stands in most import 
tant relations both to tlie past and to the future. 
Without a knowledge of what has been, and of what, 
so far as his fellow-men are concerned, will be, he can 
form no decision in regard to the present. But this 
knowledge could never be attained unless his constitu- 
tion were made to correspond with his circumstances. 
It has, therefore, been made to correspond. There is, 
on the one hand, in men a strong instinctive disposition 
to tell the truth, and it controls them unless some 
other motive interpose ; and there is, on the other hand, 
a corresponding disposition to believe what is told un- 
less some counteracting motive is supposed to operate. 

Veracity has respect to the past and present, or to 
the FUTURE. We shall consider them separately. 



CHAPTER I 



VERACITY AS IT RESPECTS THE PAST AND PRESENT. 

Veracity, in this sense, always has respect to 3i.fact; 
that is, to something done, or to something wliich ^. 3 
believe to be doing. 

Moral truth consists in our intention to convey to 
another, to the best of our ability, the conception of a 
fact exactly as it exists in our own minds. 

Physical truth consists in conveying to another the 
conception of a fact precisely as it actually exists or 
has existed. 

These two, it is evident, do not always coincide. 

I may innocently have obtained an incorrect concep- 
tion of a fact myself, and yet may intend to convey it 
to another precisely as it exists in my own mind. Here, 
then, is a moral truth, but ix. physical untruth. 

Or, again, I may have a correct conception of a fact, 
supposing it to be an incorrect one, but may convey it 
to another with the intention to deceive. Here, then, 
is a moral falsehood, and a physical truth. Pure truth 
is communicated only when I have a correct conception 
of a fact, and communicate it, intentionally, to another 
precisely as it exists in my own mind. 

The law on this subject demands that when we pro- 
fess to convey a fact to another, we, to the best of our 
ability, convey to him the impression which exists in 
our own minds. Tliis implies, first, that we convey the 
impression which exists, and not another ; and, secondly, 
that we convey that impression without diminution or 
exaggeration. In other words, we are obliged, in the 
language of jurisprudence, to tell the truth, the whole 
truth, and nothing but the truth. 
25 



JO PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

This law, therefore, forbids — 

1. The utterance as truth of luhat we knoiu to he false. 
1 say the utterance as truth, for we sometimes imagine 
cases for the sake of illustration, as in parables or licti- 
tious writing, where it is known beforehand that we 
merely address the imagination. Since we utter it as 
fiction, and do not wish it to be believed, there la no 
falsehood if it be not true. 

2. Uttering as truth what we do not knoiv to he true. 
Many things which men assert, they cannot know to be 
true ; such, for instance, are, in many cases, our views 
of the motives of others. There are many other things 
which may be probable, and we may be convinced that 
they are so, but of which we cannot arrive at the cer- 
tainty. There are other things which are merely mat- 
ters of opinion, concerning which every several man may 
hold a different opinion. Now, in any such case, to utter 
as truth what we cannot know or have not known to be 
truth, is falsehood. If a man utter anything as truth, 
he assumes the responsibility of ascertaining it to be so. 
If he who makes the assertion be not responsible , where 
shall the responsibility rest? And if any man may 
utter what he chooses, under no responsibility, there 
is the end of all credibility. 

But, it will be said, Are we never to utter anything 
which we do not know to be true ? I answer : We are 
never to utter as truth what we do not know to be true. 
Whatever is a matter of probability we may utter as a 
matter of probability ; whatever is a matter of opinion, 
we may state as a matter of opinion. If we convey to 
tinother a conception as true, of which we have only 
the impression of probability, wo convey a different 
conception from that which exists in our own minds^ 
and of course we do, in fact, speak falsely. 

3. Uttering what may he true in fact, hut uttering i) 
in such a manner as to convey a false impression to tht 
hearers. 

As, a. By exaggerating some or all of the circum- 
stances attendant upon the facts. 

h. By extenuating some or all of llie circumstance- 
atlciiidant upon tlie facts. 



VERACITY AS IT RESPECTS THE PAST AXD PRESENT. 291 

c. By exaggerating some, and extenuating others. 

d. By stating the facts just as they existed, but so 
arranging them as to leave a false impression upon the 
hearer. As, for instance, I might say, A entered B's 
room, and left it at ten o'clock ; within five minute?; 
after he left it, B discovered that his watch had beep 
stolen. Now, although I do not say that A stole B'p 
watch, yet, if I intentionally so arrange and connect 
these facts as to leave a false impression upon the minr 
of the hearer, I am guilty of falsehood. This is f 
crime to which pleaders and partial historians and all 
prejudiced narrators are specially liable. 

4. As the crime here considered consists in mak- 
ing a false impression with intention to deceive, the 
same effect may be produced by the tones of the voice, 
a look of the eye, a motion of the head, or anything by 
which the mind of another may be influenced. The 
same rule, therefore, applies to impressions made in this 
manner as to those made by words. 

5. As this rule applies to our intercourse with men 
as intelligent agents, it applies to our intercourse with 
men under all the possible relations of life. Thus, it 
forbids parents to lie to children, and children to lie to 
parents ; instructors to pupils, and pupils to instruc- 
tors ; the old to the young, and the young to the old ; 
attorneys to jurors, and jurors to attorneys ; buyers to 
sellers, and sellers to buyers. That is, the obligation 
is universal, and cannot be annulled by any of the 
complicated relations in which men stand to each other. 

Xor can it be varied by the considerations, often 
introduced, that the person with whom we are convers- 
ing has no right to know the truth. This is a sufficient 
reason why we should not speak, but it is no reason 
why we should speak a falsehood. Under such cir- 
cumstances we are at liberty to refuse to reveal any- 
tliing, but we are not at liberty to utter what is false. 

The reason for this is the following : The obligation 
to veracity does not depend upon the right of tho 
inquirer to know the truth. Did our obligation de- 
pend upon this, it would vary with every person with 



292 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

whom we conversed ; and. in every case, before speak- 
ing, we should be at liberty to measure the extent of 
our neighbor's right, and to tell him truth or falsehood 
accordingly. And, inasmuch as the person whom we 
address would never know at what rate we estimated 
his right, no one would know how much to believe, 
any more than we should know how much truth we 
were under obligation to tell. This would at once de- 
stroy every obligation to veracity. On the contrary, 
inasmuch as we are under obligation to utter nothing 
but the truth in consequence of our relations to God, 
this obligation is never affected by any of the circum- 
stances under which we are called upon to testify. Let 
no one, therefore, excuse himself on the ground that 
he tells only innocent lies. It cannot be innocent to 
do that which God has forbidden. " Lie not one to 
another, brethren, seeing ye have put off the old man 
with his deeds." 

That obedience to this law is demanded by the will 
of God is manifest from several considerations : 

1. We are created with a disposition to speak what is 
true, and also to believe what is spoken. The fact that 
we are thus constituted conveys to us an intimation 
that the Creator wills us to obey this constitution. The 
intention is as evident as that which is manifested in 
creating the eye for light, and light for the eye. 

2. We are created with a moral constitution, by 
which (unless our moral susceptibility shall have been 
destroyed) we suffer pain whenever we violate this law, 
and by which also we receive pleasure whenever, under 
circumstances which urge to the contrary, we stead- 
fastly obey it. 

3. We are so constituted that obedience to the law 
of veracity is absolutely necessary to our happiness. 
Were we to lose either our feeling of obligation to tell 
the truth, or our disposition to receive as truth what- 
ever is told to us, there would at once be an end to all 
science and all knowledge beyond that which every 
man had obtained by his own personal observation and 
experience. No man could profit by the discoveries of 



YERACITY AS IT RESPECTS THE PAST AND PRESENT. 203 

his contemporaries, much less by the discoveries of those 
men who have gone before him. Language would be 
useless, and we should be but little removed from the 
brutes. Every one must be aware, upon the slightest 
reflection, that a community of entire liars could not 
exist in a state of society. The effects of such a course 
of conduct upon the whole, show us what is the will of 
God in the individual case. 

4. The will of God is abundantly made known to us 
in the holy Scriptures. I subjoin a few examples : 

" Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neigh- 
bor " (Ex. XX. 16). " Lying lips are an abomination 
to the Lord " (Prov. vi. 16). " Keep thy tongue from 
evil, and thy lips that they speak no guile " (Psalm 
xxxiv. 13). Those that speak lies are called children 
of the devil ; that is, followers, imitators of the actionr, 
of the devil. (John viii. 44.) See also the cases of 
Ananias and Sapphira, and of Gehazi. (Acts v. and 2 
Kings V. 20-27.) " All liars shall have their portion 
in the lake that burnetii with fire and brimstone " (Rev 
xxi. 8). " There shall in nowise enter therein [into 
heaven] anything that maketh a lie " (Ibid., verse 27). 

From what has been said, the importance of strict 
adherence to veracity is too evident to need further re- 
mark. I will, however, add, that the evil of falsehood 
in small matters — in lies told to amuse, in petty exag- 
gerations, and in complimentary discourse — is not by 
any means duly estimated. Let it be always borne in 
mind that he who knowingly utters what is false, tells 
a lie ; and a lie, whether Avhite, or of any other color, 
is a violation of the command of that God by whom we 
must be judged. And let us also remember that there 
is no vice wliich more easily than this stupefies a man's 
conscience. He who tells lies frequently will soon be- 
come an habitual liar ; and an habitual liar will soon 
lose the power of readily distinguishing between tlie 
conceptions of Ins imagination and the recollections of 
his memory. I have known persons who seemed to 
have arrived at this most deplorable moral condition. 
Let every one, therefore, beware of even the most distant 
25* 



294 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

approaclies to this detestable vice. A volume might 
easily be written on the misery and loss of character 
which have grown out of a single lie ; and another 
volume of illustrations of the moral power which men 
have gained by means of no other prominent attribute 
than that of bold, unshrinking veracity. 

vlf lying be thus pernicious to ourselves, how wicked 
must it be to teach it, or specially to require it of others ! 
What shall we say, then, of parents who, to accomplish 
a momentary purpose, will not hesitate to utter to a 
child the most flagitious falsehoods ? Or what shall we 
say of those heads of families who direct their children 
or servants deliberately to declare that they are not at 
home, while they are quietly sitting in their parlor or 
their study ? What right has any one, for the purpose 
of securing a momentary convenience, or avoiding a 
petty annoyance, to injure forever the moral sentiments 
of another ? How can such a man or woman expect 
to hear the truth from those whom they have deliber- 
ately taught to lie ? The expectation is absurd ; and 
the result will show that such persons, in the end, drink 
abundantly of the cup which they themselves have 
mingled. Before any man is tempted to lie, let him 
remember that God governs this universe on the prin- 
ciples of veracity, and that the whole constitution of 
things is so arranged as to vindicate truth, and to expose 
falsehood. Hence the^^r^^ lie always requires a multi- 
tude of lies to conceal it, each one of which plunges 
the criminal into more inextricable embarrassment; 
and, at last, all of them will combine to cover him with 
shame. The inconveniences of truth, aside from the 
question of guilt and innocence, are infinitely less than 
the inconveniences of falsehood. 



CHAPTER II. 

VERACITY IX RESPECT TO THE FUTURE. 

The future is, -^tliin some conditions, subject to cm 
po^ver. We may, therefore, place ourselves under moral 
obligations to act, within those conditions, in a partic- 
ular manner. When we make a promise, we voluntarily 
place ourselves under such a moral obligation. The 
law of veracity obliges us to fulfil it. 

This part of the subject includes promises and con- 
tracts. 

I. Of PROMISES. 

In every promise two things are to be considered : 
the intention and the obligation. 

1. The intention. The law of veracity, in this respect, 
demands that we convey to the promisee the intention 
as it exists in our own minds. When we inform another 
that we intend to do a service for him to-morrow, we 
have no more right to lie about this intention than 
about any other matter. 

2. Tlie obligation. The law of veracity obliges us to 
fulfil the intention just as we made it known. In other 
words, we are under obligation to satisfy, precisely, the 
expectation which we voluntarily excited. The rule of 
Dr. Paley is as follows : " A promise is binding in the 
sense in which the promiser supposed the promisee to 
receive it." 

The modes in which promises may be violated, and 
the reasons for believing the obligation to fulfil promises 
to be enforced by the law of God, are so similar to those 
mentioned in the preceding chapter, that I will not 
repeat them. 

I therefore proceed to consider in what cases promises 



296 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

are not binding. The following are, I think, among the 
most important : 

Promises are not binding — 

1. When the performance is impossible. We cannot 
be under obligation to do what is plainly out of our 
power. The moral character of such a promise will, 
however, vary with the circumstances under which the 
promise was made. If I knew nothing of the impossi- 
Inlity, and honestly expressed an intention which I 
designed to fulfil, I am, at the bar of conscience, ac- 
quitted. The providence of God has interfered with 
my intention, and I am not to blame. If, on the other 
hand, I knew of the impossibility, I have violated the 
law of veracity. I expressed an intention which I did 
not mean to fulfil. I am bound to make good to the 
other party all the loss which he may have sustained 
by my crime. 

2. When the promise is unlawful. No man can be 
under obligation to violate obligation; for this would 
be to suppose a man to be guilty for not being guilty. 
Much less can he be under obligation to violate his 
obligations to God. Hence promises to lie, to steal, or 
in any manner to violate the laws of society, are not 
binding. And the duty of every man who has placed 
himself under any such obligation is, at once to confess 
his fault, to declare himself free from his engagement, 
and to endeavor to persuade others to do the same. 
Here, as in the former instance, there are two cases. 
Where the unlawfulness was not known, the promisor 
is under no other obligation than that of informing the 
promisee of the facts as soon as possible. Where the 
unlawfulness ivas known to the promisor, and not to 
the promisee, I think that the former is bound to make 
good the loss to tlie latter, if any occur. When it is 
known to both parties, either is at liberty to disengage 
himself, and neither is under any obligation to make 
any restitution ; for the fault is common to both, and 
each should bear his own share of the inconvenience. 

3. Promises are not binding ivliere no expectation is 
voluntarily excited by the proraiser. He is bound only 



TERACITY m RESPECT TO THE FUTUKE. 297 

to lulfi] the expectation which he voluntarily excites ; 
and if he have excited none, he has made no promise. 
If A tell B that he shall give a horse to C, and B, with- 
out A's knowledge or consent, inform C of it, A is not 
bound. But, if he directed B to give the information, 
he is as much bound as though he informed C himself. 

4. Promises are not binding ichen they are known by 
both parties to proceed upon a condition^ which condition 
is subsequently, by the promiser, found not to exist. As, 
if A promise to give a beggar money on the faith of his 
story, and the story be subsequently found to be a fab- 
rication, A, in such a case, is manifestly not bound. 

5. As the very conception of a promise implies an 
obligation entered into between two intelligent moral 
agents, I think there can be no such obligation entered 
into where one of the parties is not a moral agent. I do 
not think we can properly be said to make a promise to 
a brute, nor to violate it. I think the same is true of 
a madman. Nevertheless, expediency has, even in such 
cases, always taught the importance of fulfilling expec- 
tation which we voluntarily excite. I think, however, 
that it stands on the ground of expediency, and not of 
obligation. I do not suppose that any one would feel 
guilty for deceiving a madman in order to lead him to 
a madhouse. 

These seem to me to be the most common cases in 
which promises are not binding. The mere inconveni- 
ence to which we may be exposed by fulfilling a promise 
is not a release. We are at liberty, beforehand, to enter 
into the obligation, or not. No man need promise un- 
less he please ; but, having once promised, he is holden 
until he be morally liberated. Hence, as after the 
obligation is formed it cannot be recalled, prudence 
would teach us to be extremely cautious in making 
promises. Except in cases where we are from long 
experience fully acquainted with all the ordinary con- 
tingencies of an event, we ought never to make a prom- 
ise without sufficient opportunity for reflection. It is a 
good rule to enter into no important engagement on 
the same day in which it is first presented to our notice. 



298 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

And I believe that it will be generally found that those 
who are most careful in promising, are the most con- 
scientious in performing ; and that, on the contrary, 
those who are willing on all occasions to pledge them- 
selves on the instant, have very little difficulty in 
violating their engagements with correspondent thought- 
lessness. 

Op contracts. 

The peculiarity of a contract is, that it is a mutual 
promise ; that is, we promise to do one thing on the 
condition that another person does another. 

The rule of interpretation, the reasons for its obliga- 
toriness, and the cases of exception to the obligatori- 
ness, are the same as in the preceding cases, except 
that it has a specific condition annexed, by which the 
obligation is limited. 

Hence, after a contract is made, wliile the other party 
performs his part, we are under obligation to perform 
our part ; but, if either party fail, the other is, by the 
failure of the condition essential to the contract, liber- 
ated. 

But this is not all. Not only is the one party liber- 
ated by the failure of the other party to perform his 
part of the contract ; the first has, moreover, upon the 
second, a claim for damages to the amount of what ho 
may have suffered by such failure. 

Here, however, it is to be observed that a distinction 
is to be made between a simple contract — that is, a con- 
lA^act to do a particular act — and a contract by which 
we enter upon a relation established by our Creator. 
Of t\\Q first kind are ordinary mercantile contracts to 
sell or deliver merchandise at a particular place, for a 
specified sum, to be paid at a particular time. Here, if 
the price be not paid, we are under no obligation to 
deliver the goods ; and if the price is to be paid on 
condition of the delivery of the goods at a specified 
time, and they are not so delivered, we. are under no 
obligation to pay the price. Of the second kind are the 
contract of civil society, and the marriage contract. 
These, being appointed by the constituticm under which 



VERACITY IN RESPECT TO THE FUTURE. 299 

God lias placed us, may be dissolved only for such rea- 
sons as he has appointed. Thus, society and the indi- 
vidual enter mutually into certain obligations with re- 
spect to each other ; but it does not follow that either 
party is liberated by every failure of the other. The 
case is the same with the marriage contract. In these 
instances, each party is bound to fulfil its part of the 
contract, notwithstanding the failure of the other. 

It is here proper to remark, that the obligation to 
veracity is precisely the same, under what relations so- 
ever it may be formed. It is as binding between indi- 
viduals and society on both parts, and between societies 
and societies, as it is between individuals. There is no 
more excuse for a society, when it violates its obligation 
to an individual, or for an individual when he violates 
his obligations to a society, than for any other case of 
deliberate falsehood. By how much more are societies 
or communities bound to fidelity in their engagements 
with each other, since the faith of treaties is the only 
barrier which interposes to shield nations from the 
appeal to bloodshed in every case of collision of inter 
ests ! And the obligation is the same, imder what cir 
cumstances soever nations may treat with each other. 
A ci\ilized people has no right to violate its solemn 
obligations because the other party is uncivilized. A 
strong nation has no right to lie to a weak nation. The 
simple fact that two communities of moral agents have 
entered into engagements, binds both of them equally 
in the sight of their' common Creator. And He who 
is the Judge of all, in his holy habitation, will assur- 
edly avenge, with most solemn retributions, that viola- 
tion of faith in which the peculiar blessings bestowed 
upon one party are made a reason for inflicting misery 
upon the other party, with wdiom he has dealt less 
bountifully. Shortly loefore the death of the Duke of 
Burgundy, the pupil of Fenelon, a cabinet council was 
held, at which he was present, to take into consideration 
the expediency of violating a treaty ; which it was sup- 
posed could be done with manifest advantage to France. 
The treaty was read; and the ministers explained in 



800 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

what respects it operated unfavorably, and how great 
an accession of territory might be made to France by 
acting in defiance of its solemn obligations. Reasons 
of state were, of course, offered in abundance, to justify 
the deed of perfidy. The Duke of Burgundy heard 
them all in silence. When they had finished, he closed 
the conference by laying his hand upon the instrument, 
and saying, with emphasis, " Gentlemen, there is a 
treaty J ^ This single sentiment is a more glorious mon- 
ument to his fame than a column inscribed with the 
record of a hundred victories. 

It is frequently said, partly by way of explanation, 
and partly by way of excuse for the violation of con- 
tracts by communities, that corporate bodies have no 
conscience. In what sense this is true it is not neces- 
sary here to inquire. It is sufficient to know that every 
one of the corporators has a conscience, and is respon- 
sible to God for obedience to its dictates. Men may 
mystify before each other, and they may stupefy the 
monitor in their own bosoms, by throwing the blame of 
perfidy upon each other ; but it is yet worthy to be re- 
membered that they act in the presence of a Being 
with whom the night shineth as the day, and that they 
must appear before a tribunal where there will be "no 
shuffling." For beings acting under these conditions 
there surely can be no wiser or better course than thai 
of simple, unsophisticated verity, under what relations 
soever they may be called upon to act. 



CHAPTER III. 

OF OATHS. 

T. The theory of oaths. 

It is frequently of the highest importance to society 
that the facts relating to a particular transaction should 
be distinctly and accurately ascertained. Unless this 
could be done, neither the innocent could be protected 
nor the guilty punished ; that is, justice could not be 
administered, and society could not exist. 

To almost every fact, or to the circumstances which 
determine it to be fact, there must, from the laws of 
cause and effect, and from the social nature of man, be 
many witnesses. The fact can, therefore, be generally 
known, if the witnesses can be induced to testify, gftid 
to testify the truth. 

To place men under such circumstances that, upon 
the ordinary principles of the human mind, they shall 
be most likely to testify truly, is the design of adminis- 
tering an oath. 

In taking an oath, besides incurring the ordinary civil 
penalties incident to perjury, he who swears calls upon 
God to witness the truth of his assertions ; and also, 
either expressly or by implication, invokes upon him- 
self tlie judgments of God if he speak falsely. J'he 
o/xlinary form of swearing in this country and in GreaL 
Britain is to close the promise of veracity with the 
words, " So help me God ; " that is, may God only help 
me so as I tell the truth. Inasmuch as, without the 
help of God, we must be miserable for time and for 
eternity, to relinquish his help if we violate the truth, 
IS, on this condition, to imprecate upon ourselves the 
absence of the favor of God, and, of course, all possible 
misery forever. 

26 



S02 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

The theory of oaths, then, I suppose to ^q as follows : 

1. Men naturally speak the truth when there is nc 
counteracting motive to prevent it ; and, unless some 
such motive be supposed to supervene, they expect the 
truth to be spoken. 

2. When, however, by speaking falsely, some imme- 
diate advantage can be gained, or some immediate evil 
avoided, they will frequently speak falsely. 

3. But when a greater good can be gained, or a 
greater evil avoided, by speaking the truth than could 
possibly be either gained or avoided by speaking falsely, 
they will, on the ordinary principles of the human 
mind, speak the truth. To place them under such cir- 
cumstances is the design of an oath. 

4. Now, as the favor of God is the source of every 
blessing which man can possibly enjoy, and as his dis- 
pleasure must involve misery utterly beyond the grasp 
of our limited conceptions, if we can place men under 
such circumstances that, by speaking falsely, they re- 
linquish all claim to the one and incur all that is awful 
in the other, we manifestly place a stronger inotive 
beiore them for speaking the truth than can possibly 
be conceived for speaking falsehood. Hence it is sup- 
posed, on the ordinary principles of the human mind, 
that men under such circumstances will speak the 
truth. 

Such I suppose to be the theory of oaths. There 
can be no doubt that, if men acted upon this convic- 
tion, the truth would be, by means of oaths, universally 
elicited. 

But, inasmuch as men may be required to testify 
whose practical conviction of these great moral truths 
is at best but weak, and who are liable to be more 
strongly influenced by immediate than by ulterior mo- 
tives, human punishments have always been affixed to 
the crime of perjury. These, of course, vary in dif- 
ferent ages, and in different periods of society. The 
most equitable provision seems to be that of the Jewish 
law, by which the perjurer was made to suffer precisely 
the same injury which he had designed to inflict upon 



OF OATHS. 303 

the iiinoceut i)arty. The Mosaic cnactmeiit seems in- 
tended to have been, in regard to this crime, uniisuallj 
rigorous. The judges are specially commanded not to 
spare, but to exact an eye for an eye, a tooth for a 
tooth. It certainly deserves serious consideration, 
whether modern legislators might not derive important 
instruction from this feature of Jewish jurisprudence. 
11. The laicf Illness of oaths. On this subject a 
diversity of opinion has been entertained. It has been 
urged by those who d^eny the lawfulness of oaths — 

1. That oaths are frequently forbidden in the New- 
Testament, and that we are commanded to use Tes 
for our affii^mative, and No for our negative ; for the 
reason that " whatsoever is more than these cometh of 
evil," or of the evil one. 

2. That no man has a right to peril his eternal sal- 
vation upon a condition which, from intellectual or 
moral imbecility, he would be so liable to violate. 

3. That no one has a right to oblige another to place 
himself under such conditions. 

4. That the frequent use of oaths tends, by abating 
our reverence for the Deity, to lessen the practical feel- 
ing of the obligation to veracity. . 

5. That no reason can be assigned why this crime 
should be treated so differently from every other. Other 
crimes, so far as man is concerned, are left to human 
punishments ; and there can be no reason why this 
crime should involve the additional punishment in- 
tended by the imprecation of the loss of the soul. 

6. It is said that those sects who never take an oath 
are as fally believed, upon their simple affirmation, as 
any others ; nay, that false witness among them is 
more rare than among other men taken at random. 
This is, I believe, acknowledged to be the fact. 

Those who defend the lawfulness of oaths urge, on 
tlie contrary — 

1. That those passages in the New Testament which 
have been referred' to, forbid not judicial oaths, but 
merely profanity. 

2. That our Saviour responded, when examined upon 



804 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

oath. This, however, is denied by the other party to 
be a fair interpretation. 

3. That the apostles, on several occasions, call God 
to witness, when they are attesting to particular facts. 
The instances adduced are such phrases as these : 
" God is my witness ; " " Behold, before God I lie 
not." The example in this case is considered sufficient 
to assure us of the lawfulness of this sort of appeal. 

4. That the importance of truth to the purposes of 
justice warrants us in taking other measures for the 
prevention of perjury than are taken for the prevention 
of other crimes ; and specially as this is a crime to the 
commission of which there may always exist peculiarly 
strong temptations. 

These are, I believe, the principal considerations 
which have been urged on both sides of the question. 
It seems to me to need a more thorough discussion than 
can be allowed to it in this place. One thing, however, 
seems evident, — that the multiplication of oaths de- 
manded by the present practice of most Christian 
nations is not only very wicked, but that its direct 
tendency is to diminisli our reverence for the Deity, 
and thus, in the end,, to lead to the very evil which it is 
intended to prevent. 

III. Interpretation of oaths. 

As oaths are imposed for the safety of the party 
administering them, they are to be interpreted as he 
understands them. The person under oath has no right 
to make any mental reservation, but to declare the 
truth precisely in the manner that the truth, the whole 
truth, and nothing but the truth is expected of him. 
On no other principle would we ever know what to be- 
lieve or to expect from a witness. If, for the sake of 
personal friendship or personal advantage, or from fear 
of personal inconvenience, or from the excitement of 
party partiality, he shrink from declaring the whole 
truth, he is as truly guilty of perjury as though he 
swore falsely for money. 

lY. Different kinds of oaths. 

Oaths respect either the past or the future ; that is, 
are either assertory or promissory. 



OF OATHS. 305 

1. The oath respecting the past is definite. A trans- 
action either took place, or it did not take place, and we 
cither have or have not some knowledge respecting it. 
It is therefore in our power either to tell what we know, 
or to tell what and in how much we do not know. 
This is the proper occasion for an oath. 

2. The oath, respecting the future is of necessity ^7^- 
definite, as when we promise upon oath to discharge, to 
the best of our ahility^ a particular office. Thus, the 
parties may have very different views of what is meant 
by discharging an office according' to the best of our 
ability ; or this obligation may conflict with others, such 
as domestic or personal obligations ; and the incumbent 
may not know, even with the best intentions, which 
obligation ought to take the precedence ; that is, what 
is the best of his ability. Such being the case, who 
that is aware of the frailty of human nature will dare 
to peril his eternal salvation upon the performance, to 
the best of his ability, of any official duty ? And if 
these allowaiices be imd^rstood by both parties, how 
are they to be limited ? And if they be not limited, 
what is the value of an oath ? Such being the case, it 
is, at best, doubtful whether promissory oaths of office 
ought ever to be required. Much less ought they to be 
required, as is frequently the case, in the most petty 
details of official life. They must be a snare to the 
conscience of a thoughtful man, and must tend to 
obliterate moral disthictions from the mind of him who 
is, as is too frequently the case, unfortunately thought- 
less. Why should one man, who is called upon to dis- 
charge the duties of a constable, or of an overseer of 
common schools, or even of a counsellor or a judge, 
be placed under peril of his eternal salvation, any more 
than his neighbor who discharges the duty of a mer- 
chant, of an instructor of youth, a physician, or a cler- 
gyman ? It seems to me that no man can take such an 
oath of office, upon reflection, without such meiital 
reservation as must immediately convhice him that the 
requirement is nugatory ; and, if so, that it must be 
injurious. 

2G* 



CLASS II. 

DUTIES WHICH ARISE FROM THE CONSTITUTION OF THE 

SEXES. 

Under this division of the subject we shall consider — 

1. The general duty of chastity. 

2. The nature and obligations of the relation of 
marriage. 

3. The duties of parents. 

4. The duties of children. 



CHAPTER I. 



THE DUTY OF CHASTITY. 



The moral law limits the indulgence of the sexual 
desire to individuals who are exclusively united to each 
other for life. 

Hence it forbids adultery, polygamy, concubinage, or, 
in general, intercourse with one of the other sex, under 
any other condition than that of the marriage covenant. 

Inasmuch as unchaste desire is strongly excited by 
the imagination, the law of chastity forbids all impure 
thoughts and actions, all unchaste conversation, looks 
and gestures, the reading of obscene or lascivious books, 
and everything which would naturally produce in us a 
tendency to violate this precept. 

The law which we are to consider contains two re- 
strictions. It requires that the individuals be exclu- 
sively united to each other, and that this union be 
during life. 

Let us briefly examine the teachings of natural re- 
ligion upon both of these points. 

That it is the will of our Creator that the gratificatioD 
of the sexual desire should be limited to those who 
are exclusively united to each other, may be shown as 
follows : 

1. The number of births of each sex is substantially 
equal. As at the beginning God created a male and a 
female, so has it ever been. This universal fact suffi- 
ciently indicates his will. 

2. Under this restriction the race is most rapidly 
multiplied, and the health of the young most certainly 
secured. 



308 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

3. The human infant is proverbially helpless, and on 
its entrance into this world needs all the comforts of an 
affectionate home, where everything will be ione lov- 
ingly for its comfort and sustenance. And after its 
infancy is passed, it needs the watchful care of parents, 
who will unite in rendering to it every needful office, to 
guide it by their experience, restrain it by parental au- 
thority, and prepare it for its future situation in society. 
It is obvious that such a home can never be prepared 
for the offspring of disgraceful lust or promiscuous 
concubinage. 

4. There can be no doubt that we were created to 
find a large part of our earthly happiness in domestic 
society, where all the relations of husband and wife, 
parents and children, brothers and sisters, combine to 
augment the happiness of every individual. But how 
can such happiness be enjoyed when the domestic soci- 
ety is constituted on any other principles than those 
which we have indicated ? 

5. No reason can be assigned why an individual of 
one sex is not as valuable in the sight of the Creator as 
an individual of the other, much less why the one sex 
should be the abused slave, or the object of sensual 
gratification for the other. But just as we depart from 
obedience to the law of chastity, is woman degraded to 
this condition. No one can suppose that the Creator 
intended one human being to stand in such a relation 
to another, while both are equally tending to the same 
solemn eternity. 

II. The second requirement of the law of chastity is 
that the union be for life. Among the iiatural reasons 
for this requirement may be the following : 

1. Nothing tends so strongly to cultivate that self- 
government and mutual forbearance, which are essen- 
tial to any connection of imperfect beings, as the con- 
'Viction that the union is for life. 

2. If the union be not for life, it must be liable to be 
dissolved at the will of either party. This would lead 
to all the evils of promiscuous concubinage, of which 
we have spoken. 



THE DUTY OF CHASTITY 309 

8. Children require the care of parents until they 
liave arrived at an age at which they are competent to 
assume the care of themselves. But if the domestic 
society be dissolved, they belong to no one ; they have 
no protector, and are cast helpless upon the world. 

4. Or, if otherwise, they become the charge of one of 
the parents, and this will commonly be the mother, 
whose parental instincts are stronger, and who would 
frequently rather die than desert her offspring. The 
tendency of every licentious system is to take advan- 
tage of the maternal instincts of the mother for the 
purpose of devolving upon her a labor which she is least 
able to sustain. 

5. Parents themselves, in advanced age, frequently 
need the care of their children, and are greatly depend- 
ent for their happiness upon them. But all this source 
of happiness is dried up by any system which allows of 
the disruption of the domestic society, and the deser- 
tion of offspring at the will of both or either of the 
parents. 

If it be suggested that though this may be the gen- 
eral rule, yet that occasional aberrations may be ex- 
empted from the general rule, it may be answered — 

1. That the severity of the punishment which God 
has affixed to the crime displays his displeasure against 
it. In woman this crime is fatal to reputation, and a 
return to virtue seems almost hopeless ; and in man it 
leads directly to those states of mind which are the sure 
precursors to destruction. 

2. The Creator, who made us, and to whom we must 
give account, is no respecter of pej;;sons, and he will 
bring every secret thing into judgment. The seducer 
and his victim will shortly stand at the bar of that 
Judge who will render to every man according to his 
deeds. 

3. Let it be remembered that a female is, like us, a 
moral and accountable being, hastening to the bar of 
God. Let us consider the worth of that soul which, 
unless a miracle interposes, must, by the loss oi virtue, 
bo driven into that path which leads to endless despair ; 



510 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

and wo ask whether there be a crime whose atrocity 
more justly merits the deepest condemnation than tlial 
which, for the sake of a momentary gratification, will 
violate all these obligations, outrage all these sympa- 
thies, and work out so wide-spreading and interminable 
a ruin ? 

III. The precepts of revealed religion on this subject 
may be briefly stated. 

1. The seventh commandment of the decalogue is, 
" Thou shalt not commit adultery." The term adul- 
tery here is intended to designate impurity of action of 
every kind. 

2. Our Saviour, in reference to the law of chastity, in 
his Sermon on the Mount, teaches us fully the extent of 
this precept. " Ye have heard that it hatli been said 
by them of old time, Thou shalt not commit adultery. 
But I say unto you, that whosoever shall look upon a 
woman to lust after her [to cherish impure desire] hath 
committed adultery with her already in his heart. And 
if thy right eye offend thee [cause thee to offend] , pluck 
it out and cast it from thee ; for it is profitable for theo 
that one of thy members should perish, and not that 
thy whole body should be cast into hell " (Matt. v. 
27-33). That is, as I suppose, eradicate from your 
bosom every impure thought, no matter at what sac- 
rifice ; for no one who cherishes impurity even in 
thought can inherit the kingdom of heaven. 

I need not multiply quotations from both the Old and 
New Testaments, which show that God has classed un- 
cleanness among those crimes which especially bring 
down his judgments upon men. Let every one, then, 
remember that whoever violates this command, violates 
it in defiance of the most clearly revealed command of 
God, and at the price of his own soul. 

I remarked above that the law of chastity forbade the 
indulgence of lascivious or impure imaginations, the 
harboring of such thoughts in the mind, or the doing 
of anything by which such thoughts could be excited. 
Licentiousness in outward conduct never appears until 
tlie mind has become defiled by impure imaginations/ 



THE DUTY OF CHASTITY. 311 

Hence the necessity of the utmost vigihxnce in the 
government of our thouglits, and in tlie avoiding of 
all books, all pictures, all society, and all conduct or 
actions, of ^vhich the tendency is to imbue our imagin- 
ations with anything at variance with the purest virtue. 
No man can take fire in lii-s bosom and his clothes be 
not burned. Hence it is that immodest dancing, and 
all amusements and actions which tend to inflame the 
passions, are sadly pernicious to morals. It is not 
enough for a virtuous woman to say that she suiTers no 
harm from such associations ; if she knows that they 
are the occasions of ruin to others, she must charge 
herself with the crime of being accessory to the undoing 
of others. It was Cain who asked, " Am I my brother's 
keeper ? " 



CHAPTEE II. 



THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. 



It has been already remarked, in the preceding sec- 
lion, that the law of chastity forbids all sexual inter- 
course between persons who have not been exclusively 
united for life. In the act of marriage, two persons, 
under the most solemn circumstances, are thus united ; 
and they enter into a mutual contract thus to live in 
respect to each other. This relation having been es- 
tablished by God, the contract thus entered into has all 
the solemnity of an oath. Hence he who violates it is 
guilty of a twofold crime : first, the violation of the 
law of chastity ; and, secondly, of the law of veracity, 
— a veracity pledged under the most solemn circum- 
stances. 

But vastly more than this is intended by the institu- 
tion of marriage. By the contract thus entered into 
a society is formed, of a most interesting and important 
character, which is the origin of all civil society, and 
in which children are prepared to become members of 
that great community. As our principal knowledge of 
the nature and obligations of this institution is derived 
from the sacred Scriptures, I shall endeavor briefly to 
explain the manner in which they treat of it, without 
adding anything to what I have already said in regard 
to the teaching of natural religion. 

I shall consider, first, the nature of this contract ; 
and, secondly, the duties which it enjoins and the 
crimes which it forbids. 

First. The nature of the contract. 

1. The contract is for life, and is dissoluble for one 
cause only, — the cause of whoredom ; 



THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. 313 

Matthew xix. 3-6, 9: ^' Then came some of tho 
PhiarisGCs to him, and, tempting him, asked, Can a man 
upon every pretence divorce his wife ? He answered, 
Have ye not read, that at the beginning, when the Cre- 
ator made man, he formed a male and female ; and 
said, for this cause shall a man leave father and mother, 
and adhere to his wife ; and they two shall be one flesh ? 
Wherefore they are no longer two, but one flesh. What 
then God hath conjoined, let no man separate. Where- 
fore, I say unto you, whosoever divorceth his wife, ex- 
cept for whoredom, and marrieth another, committeth 
adultery." I use here the translation of Dr. Campbell, 
which, I think, conveys more exactly than the common 
version the meaning of the original. 

2. We are here taught that marriage, being an insti- 
tution of God, is subject to his laws alone, and not to the 
laws of man. Hence the civil law is binding upon the 
conscience only in so far as it corresponds to the law 
of God. 

3. This contract is essentially mutual. By entering 
into it, the members form a society ; that is, they have 
something in common. Whatever is thus in common 
belongs equally to both. What is not thus surrendered 
remains, as before, in the power of the individual. 

4. The basis of this union is affection. Individuals 
thus contract themselves to each other on the ground 
not merely of mutual regard, but also of a. regard 
stronger than that which they entertain for any other 
persons. Such is the nature of the human affections, 
that we derive a higher and a purer pleasure from ren- 
dering happy those whom we love than from self-grati- 
fication. This is the essential element on which depends 
the happiness of the married state. 

5. I have mentioned above that this being a volun- 
tary compact, and forming a peculiar society, there are 
some things which, by this compact, each surrenders to 
the other, and also other things which are not surren- 
dered. It is important that these be distinguished from 
each other. 

I remark, then — 
27 



314 PEACTICAL ETHICS. 

a. Neither party surrenders to the other any control 
over anything appertaining to the conscience. For 
either party to interfere with the discharge of those 
duties which the other party really believes that it owes 
to God, is therefore wicked and oppressive. 
■ h. Neither party surrenders to the other anything 
which would violate prior and lawful obligations. Thus, 
a husband does not promise to subject his professional 
pursuits to the will of his wife. So, also, his duties as 
a citizen are of prior obligation ; and, if they really 
interfere with any others, those subsequently formed 
must be construed in subjection to them. Thus, also, 
the filial duties of both parties remain in some respects 
unchanged after marriage,, and the marriage contract 
should not be so interpreted as to violate them. 

c. On the other hand, I suppose that the marriage 
contract binds each party, whenever individual gratifi- 
cation is concerned, to prefer the happiness of the other 
party to its own. If pleasure can be enjoyed by .both, 
the happiness of both is increased by enjoying it in 
common. If it can be enjoyed but by one, each should 
prefer that it be enjoyed by the other. And if there be 
sorrow to be endured, or inconvenience to be suffered, 
each should desire, if possible, to bear the infliction for 
the sake of shielding the other from pain. 

d. And, as I have remarked before, the disposition 
to do this arises from the very nature of the principles 
on which the compact is formed, from unreserved affec- 
tion. This is the very manner in which affection always 
displays itself. And this is the only course of conduct 
by which affection can be retained. 

6. As, however, in all societies there may be differ 
ences of opinion, even where the harmony of feeling 
remains unimpaired, so there may be differences here. 
Where such differences of opinion exist, there must be 
some ultimate appeal. As the husband is responsible 
to civil society, the voice of nature and of revelation 
unite in conferring the right of ultimate authority upon 
liim. By this arrangement the liappiness of the wife 
is increased no less than that of the husband. Her 



THE LAW OF MARRIAGE. 316 

power is always greatest in concession. She is graceful 
and attractive while meek and gentle ; but wlien angered 
and turbulent, she loses the fascination of her own sex, 
without attaining to the dignity of the other. 

Secondly. I come, now to speak of the duties imposed 
by the marriage relation. 

I. The marriage relation imposes upon both parties 
equally the duty of chastity. 

1. Hence it forbids adultery, or intercoui'se with any 
other person than that one to whom the individual is 
united in marriage. 

2. And, hence, it forbids all conduct in married poi- 
sons, or with married persons, of which the tendency 
would be to diminish their affection for those to whom 
they are united in marriage, or of which the tendency 
would be to give pain to the other party. 

The crime of adultery is of an exceedingly aggra- 
vated nature. The misery which it inflicts upon par- 
ents and children, relatives and friends, the total anni- 
hilation of domestic happiness, and the total disruption 
of parental and filial ties which it necessarily produces, 
mark it as one of the basest forms of human atrocity. 
And if any one will remember that the happiness and 
prosperity of a country must depend on the virtue of 
the domestic society more than on anything else, he can- 
not fail to perceive that a crime which, by a single act, 
sunders the conjugal tie, and leaves children worse than 
parentless, must be attended with more abundant and 
remediless evils than almost any other that can be 
named. The taking of human life can be attended 
with no consequences more dreadful. In the one case, 
the parental tie is broken, but the victim is innocent ; 
in the other, the tie is broken, with the additional aggra- 
vation of an irretrievable moral stain, and a wide- 
spreading dishonor that cannot be washed away. 

II. The law of marriage enforces the duty of mutual 
affection. 

Affection towards another is the result of his or her 
actions and temper towards us. Admiration and respect 
may be the result of other manifestations of character, 



SI 6 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

but nothing is so likely as evidence of affection towards 
ourselves to produce in us affection towards other. 

III. The law of marriage imposes the duty of mu- 
tual assistance. 

In the domestic society, as in every other, there are 
special duties devolving upon each member. So, here, 
there are duties devolving of right upon the Imsband, 
and other duties devolving of right upon the wife. 
Thus it is the duty, in the first instance, of the husband 
to provide for the wants of the family ; and of the wife, 
to assume the charge of the affairs of the household. 
His sphere of duty is without, her sphere of duty is 
within. That man is wortJiily despised who does not 
qualify himself to support that family of which he has 
voluntarily assumed the office of protector. Nor surely 
is that woman less deserving of contempt who enters 
upon the duties of a wife with no other conceptions of 
the responsibilities which she has assumed than such as 
have been acquired from a life of childish caprice, lux- 
urious self-indulgence, and sensitive, feminine, yet 
thoroughly finished selfishness. 

I have remarked, that the duties of the husband and 
wife are thus, in the first instance, apportioned. Yet, 
if one be disabled, all that portion of the duty of the 
disabled party which the other can discharge falls upon 
that other. If the husband cannot alone support the 
family, it is the duty of the wife to assist him. If the 
wife is, through sickness, unable to direct her house- 
hold, the husband is bound, in so far as it is possible, 
to assume her care. In case of the death of either, 
the whole care of the children devolves upon the sur- 
vivor. 

I shall close this chapter with the following well- 
known extract from a poet whose purity of character 
and exquisite sensibility have done more than any other 
in our language to clothe virtue in her own native at 
tractiveness : 

Domestic happiness, thou only bliss 

Of Paradise that has survived the fall! 

Though few now taste thee unimpaired and pure. 



THE LAW OF MARRUGK 317 

Or, tastingr, long enjoy thee! — too infirm 
Or too incautious to preserve thy sweets 
Unmixed with drops of bitter, which neglect 
Or temper sheds into thy crystal cup : 
Thou art the nurse of virtue ; In thine arms 
She smiles, appearing, as in truth she is. 
Heaven-born, and destined to the skies again. 
Thou art not known where pleasure is adored, — 
That reeling goddess, with her zoneless waist 
And wandering eyes, still leaning on the arm 
Of novelty, her fickle, frail support; 
For thou art meek and constant, hating change, 
And finding in the calm of truth-tried love 
Joys which her stormy rapture never yields. 
Forsaking thee, what shipwreck have we seen 
Of honor, dignity, and fair renown 1 
*Till prostitution elbows us aside 
In all our crowded streets. 

27* 



CHAPTEE III, 



THE LAW OF PARENTS. 



The adaptation of tlie physical and moral laws under 
which man is placed, to the promotion of human hap- 
piness, is beautifully illustrated in the relation which 
exists between the law of marriage and the law of 
parent and child. Were the physical or moral condi- 
tions of marriage different in any respect from those 
which exist, the evils which would ensue would be innu- 
merable. 

For instance, we see that mankind are incapable of 
sustaining the relation of parent until they have arrived 
at the age of maturity, attained to considerable knowl- 
edge and experience, and become capable of such labor 
as will enable them to support and protect their offspring. 
Were this otherwise, the progress of man in virtue and 
knowledge would be impossible, even if the whole race 
did not perish from want and disease. 

Again, the parent is endowed with a love of his off- 
spring, which renders it a pleasure to him to contribute 
to its welfare, and to give it, by every means in hiis 
power, the benefit of his own experience. And, on the 
contrary, there is in the child, if not a correspondent 
love of the parent, a disposition to submit to the parent's 
wishes, and, unless its instincts have been mismanaged, 
to yield to his authority. 

Again, it is evident that civil society is constituted by 
the surrender of the individual's personal desires and 
propensities to the good of the whole. Now, in thi^ 
point of view, the domestic society is designed to be, 
as has been frequently remarked, the nursery for the 
state. 



THE LAW OF PARENTS. 319 

Thus, the parent being of an age and having experi- 
ence sufficient to control and direct the child, and the 
child being instinctively disposed to yield to his author- 
ity, the child grows up under a system in which he 
yields to the will of another, and thus he learns at home 
to submit to the laws of that society of which he is soon 
to become a member. And hence it is that the relaxa- 
tion of parental authority has always been found one 
of the surest indications of the decline of social order, 
and the unfailing precursor of public turbulence and 
anarchy. 

But still more, it is a common remark that children 
are influenced by example more readily than by any 
other means. Now, by the marriage constitution this 
principle of human nature is employed as an instrument 
of the greatest possible good. We stated that the basis 
of the marriage covenant is affection, and that it sup- 
poses each party to prefer the happiness of the other to 
its own. While the domestic society is governed by 
this principle, it presents to the children a continual 
example of disinterestedness and self-denial, and of the 
happiness which results from the exercise of these vir- 
tues. And yet more, the affection of the parents prompts 
them to the exercise of the same virtues in behalf of 
their children ; and hence the latter have before their 
eyes a constantly operating motive to the cultivation of 
these very dispositions. And, lastly, as the duty of the 
wife is submission, children are thus taught, by the ex- 
ample of one whom they respect and love, that submis- 
sion is both graceful and dignified ; and that it in no 
manner involves the idea of baseness or servility. 

1. From these considerations we learn the relation 
which exists by nature between parents and children. 
It is the relation of a superior to an inferior. The right 
of the parent is to command; the duty of the child is to 
obey. Authority belongs to the one, submission to the 
other. This relation is a part of our constitution, and 
the obligation which arises from it is, accordingly, a part 
of our duty. It is not a mere matter of convenience or 
of expediency, but it arises from the relations under 



820 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

wliicli we are created ; and to the violatioQ of it, our 
Creator has affixed peculiar and afflicting penalties. 

2. While this is the relation, yet the motive which 
should govern the obligation, on both sides, is affection. 
While the authority to command rests with the parent, 
and the duty of submission is imposed upon the child, 
yet the parent is not at liberty to exercise this authority 
from caprice, or for his own advantage, but from simple 
love to the child, and for the child's advantage. Tiie 
constitution under which we are placed renders it ne- 
cessary that the parent should exercise this power ; but 
that parent abuses it if he exercise it from any other 
motive than duty to God and love to his offspring. 

3. This relation being established by our Creator, 
and the obligations consequent upon it being binding 
upon both parties, the failure in one party does not an- 
nihilate the obligations of the other. If a child be dis- 
obedient, the parent is still under obligation to act 
towards it for its own good, and not to exert liis author- 
ity for any other purpose. If a parent be unreasonable, 
this does not release the child ; he is still bound to 
honor and obey and reverence his parent. 

The duty of parents is, then, generally, to educate, 
or to bring up their children in such a manner as they 
believe will conduce most to their future happiness, both 
temporal and eternal. 

This comprehends several particulars. 

I. Support, or maintenance. 

That it is the duty of the parents to keep alive the 
helpless being whom they have brought into existence 
need not be proved. As to the expensiveness of this 
maintenance, I do not know that anything very definite 
can be asserted. The general rule would seem to be, 
that the mode of life adopted by the parent would be 
that which lie is required to provide for the child. 
This, however, would be modified by some circum- 
stances. If a parent of large wealth brought up his 
family in meanness and ignorance, so that tliey would 
be specially unfitted for the opulence which they wer^b 
hereafter to enjoy, he would act unjustly. So, on the 



THE LAW OF PARENTS. 321 

other hand, if a parent, destitute of means to render his 
children independent of labor, brings them up, whether 
male or female, in idleness and expensiveness, he vio- 
lates his duty as a parent : he is preparing them for a 
life, not of happiness, but of discontent, imbecility, and 
misery. 
II. Education. 

1. Physical education. A parent is under obligation 
to use all the means in his power to secure to his chil- 
dren a good physical constitution. It is his duty to 
regulate their food, their labor, and exercise, so as fully 
to develop all the powers, and call into exercise all the 
functions of their physical system ; to accustom them 
to hardship, and render them patient of labor. 

By the same rule we see the wickedness of those 
parents who employ their children in such service, or 
oblige them to labor in such manner, as will expose 
them to sickness, infirmity, disease, and premature 
death. In many manufacturing countries children are 
forced to labor before they are able to endure confine- 
merit and fatigue, or to labor vastly beyond their 
strength ; so that the vigor of their constitution is de- 
stroyed even in infancy. The power of the parent over 
the child was given for the child's good, and neither to 
gratify the parent's selfishness, nor to minister to his 
love of gain. It is not improper to add, that the guilt 
and the shame of this abuse of the riglits of children 
are equally shared between the parent who thus sells 
his child's health and life for gold, and the heartless 
agent who thus profits by his wickedness. Nor is tliis 
form of violation of parental obligation confined to any 
one class of society. The ambitious mother who, for 
the sake of her own elevation, or the aggrandizement of 
her family, and without any respect to the happiness 
of her child, educates her daughter in all the trickery 
of fashionable fascination, dwarfing her mind and sen- 
sualizing her aspirations for the chance of negotiating 
for her a pr :)fitable match, falls under preciselj the same 
condemnation. 

2. Intellectual education. A child enters into tho 



A22 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

world utterly ignorant, and possessed of nothing else 
'"^lian a collection of impulses and capabilities. To some 
tnow^edge and discipline the parent has, from the ne- 
cessity of the case, attained ; and, at least, so much as 
^jhis he is bound to communicate to his children. In 
*ome respects, however, this duty can be discharged 
more eifectively by others than by the parent ; and it 
aaay, therefore, very properly be thus devolved upon a 
teacher. The parental obligation requires that it be 
done either by a parent himself, or that he procure it 
to be done by another. 

I have said that it can, in part, be discharged by the 
teacher. But, let it be remembered, it can be done onlp 
in part. The teacher is only the agent ; the parent is 
the principal. The teacher does not remove from the 
parent any of the responsibility of his relation. Several 
duties devolve upon the one, which cannot be rightfully 
devolved upon the other. 

For instance — 

1. He is bound to inform himself of the peculiar 
habits of his child, and consider what sort of education 
will most conduce to his future happiness and usefuhiess. 

2. He is bound to select such instructors as will best 
accomplish the results which he believes will be most 
beneficial. 

3. He is bound to devote such time and attention to 
the subject as will enable him to ascertain whether tlie 
instructor of his child discharges his duty with faith- 
fulness. 

4. To encourage his child by manifesting such in- 
terest in his studies as shall give to diligence and 
assiduity all the assistance and benefit of parental 
authority and friendship. 

5. And if a parent be under obligation to do this, ho 
is, of course, under obligation to take time to do it, and 
so to construct the arrangements of his family and 
business that it may he done. He has no right to say 
that he has no time for these duties. If God liave re- 
quired them of him, as is the fact, he has time exactly 
for them, and he has not time for those other occupa- 
tions Y»li:ch interfere with tliem. 



THE LAW OF PARENTS. 323 

Nor let it be supposed that tins will ever be don? 
without bringing with it its own reward. A parent 
who assiduously follows his children throughout the 
various steps of their education, will find his owi>» 
lo^ow ledge increased, and his own education carried 
foi-wari vastly beyond what he would at first have con 
ceiva. , And yeL more. It is only thus that the paren' 
will be able to retain that intellectual superiority whicl' 
it is so much for the interest of both parties that he 
shciild, for a long time at least, possess. It is an un 
fortuncte circumstance for a child to suppose that h(? 
knows more than Ins parent ; and, if his supposition be 
true, he will rot be slow to entertain it. The longer 
the parent maint?^us liis superiority in knowledge and 
wisdom, the better wiU it be for both parties. But thia 
superiority cannot be retained if, as soon as the parent 
enters upon active business, he desi?t fi'om all efibri 
after intellectual cultivation, and surrenders hmiself a 
slave to physical labor, while he devote?! hi? clr^d to 
mere intellectual cultivation, and thus rendei's intel- 
lectual intercourse between himself and his children 
almost impossible. 

3. Moral education. 

The eternal destiny of the child is placed, in a most 
important sense, in the hands of its parents. The 
parent is under obligation to instruct, and cause his 
child to be instructed, in those religious sentiments 
which he believes to be according to the will of God. 
With his duty in this respect no one has a right to 
interfere. If the parent be in error, the fault is not in 
teaching the child what he believes, but in believing 
what is false, without having used the means which 
God has given him to arrive at the truth. But, if such 
be the responsibility, and so exclusive the authority of 
the parent, it is manifest that he is under a double obli- 
gation to ascertain what is the will of God, and m wliat 
manlier the future happiness of an immortal soul may 
be secured. As soon as he becomes a parent, his de- 
cisions on this subject involve the future happiness or 
misery, not only of his own soul, but also of tliat of 



624 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

another. Both considerations, therefore, impose upon 
him the obligation of coming to a serious and solemn 
decision upon his moral condition and prospects. 

But, besides that of making himself acquainted with 
the doctrines of religion, the relation in which he stands 
imposes upon the parent several other duties. 

It is his duty — 

1. To teach his child its duties to God and to man, 
and produce in its mind a permanent conviction of its 
moral responsibility. And, specially should it be the 
constant effort of the parent to cultivate in his child a 
spirit of piety, or a right feeling towards God, the true 
source of every other virtue. 

2. Inasmuch as the present state of man is morally 
imperfect, and every individual is a sharer in that im- 
perfection, it is the duty of the parent to eradicate, so 
far as is in his power, the wrong propensities of his 
children. He should watch with ceaseless vigilance 
for the first appearances of pride, obstinacy, malice, 
envy, vanity, cruelty, revenge, anger, lying, and their 
kindred vices ; and, by steadfast and unwearied assi- 
duity, strive to extirpate them before they have gained 
firmness by age, or vigor by indulgence. There cannot 
be a greater unkindness to a child than to allow it to 
grow up with any of its evil habits uncorrected. Every 
one would consider a parent cruel who allowed a child 
to grow up without having taken means to cure a limb 
which had been broken ; but how much worse is an 
evil temper than a broken limb ! 

3. Inasmuch as precept will be of no avail without a 
correspondent example, a parent is under obligation to 
set such an example as will be most likely to correct 
the evil disposition of his children. A passionate, 
selfish, envious man must expect that, in spite of all his 
precepts, his children will be passionate, envious, and 
selfish. 

4. Inasmuch as all our efforts will be fruitless with- 
out the blessing of God, that parent must be convicted 
of great neglect of duty who does not habitually pray 
for that direction which he needs in the performance 



THE LAW OF PARENTS. 325 

of these solemn obligations, as well as for that blessing 
upon his efibrts, without which, though ever so well 
directed, they will be utterly in vain. 

5. Inasmuch as the moral character of the child is 
greatly influenced by its associations and companions, 
it is the duty of the parent to watch over these with 
vigilance, and to control them with entire independence. 
He is false to his trust, if, for the sake of gratifying the 
desires of his child, or of conciliating the favor of others, 
or avoiding the reputation of singularity or preciseness, 
he allow his child to form associations which he believes, 
or even fears, will be injurious to him. And, on the 
other hand, if such be the duty of the parent, he ought 
to be considered as fully at liberty to perform it, with- 
out remark and without offence. In such matters he 
is the ultimate and the only responsible authority. He 
who reproaches another for the exercise of this authority 
is guilty of slander. He who, from the fear of slander, 
shrinks from exercising it, is justly chargeable with a 
pusillanimity wholly unworthy of the relation which he 
sustains. 

6. As the parent sustains the same relation to all his 
children, it is manifest that his obligations to them all 
are the same. Hence he is bound to exercise his au- 
thority with entire impartiality. The want of this must 
always end in jealousy, envy, and malice, and cannot 
fail to render the domestic society a scene of perpetual 
bickering and contention. A striking exemplification 
of all this is recorded in the history of Joseph and his 
brethren. 

If this be so, it is evident that the violation of pa- 
rental obligation is more common, among even indulgent 
parents, than would generally be supposed. 

1. Parents who render themselves slaves to fashiona- 
ble society and amusement, violate this obligation. Tlie 
mother who, from the pressure of engagements to which 
she subjects herself, has no leisure to devote to the 
mental and moral culture of her children, violates her 
most solemn duties. She has no right to squander 
away in frivolous self-gratification the time which 
28 



526 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

belongs to her offspring. She will reap the fruits of 
her folly when, in a few years, her children, having 
grown up estranged from her affection, shall thwart her 
wishes, disappoint her hopes, and neglect, if they do 
not despise, the mother who bare them. 

2. The father who plunges into business so deeply 
that he has no leisure for domestic duties and pleasures, 
and whose only intercourse with his children consists 
in a brief and occasional word of authority, or a surly 
lamentation over their intolerable expensiveness, is 
equally to be pitied and to be blamed. What right has 
he to devote to other pursuits the time which God has 
allotted to his children ? Nor is it any excuse to say 
that he cannot support his family in their present style 
of living without this effort. I ask. By what right can 
his family demand to live in a manner which requires 
him to neglect his most solemn and important duties ? 
Nor is it an excuse to say that he wishes to leave them 
a competence. Is he under obligation to leave them 
that competence which he desires ? Is it an advantage 
to them to be relieved from the necessity of labor ? 
Surely, well-cultivated intellects, hearts sensible to 
domestic affection, the love of parents and brethren and 
sisters, a taste for home pleasures, habits of order, reg- 
ularity and industry, a hatred of vice and of vicious 
men, and a lively sensibility to the excellence of virtue, 
are as valuable a legacy as an inheritance of property, 
simple property, purchased by the loss of every habit 
which could render that property a blessing. 

3. Nor can thoughtful men be always exculpated 
from the charge of this violation. The duties of a 
parent are established by God, and God requires us not 
to violate them. While the social worship of God is a 
duty, it ought not to interfere with parental duty. 
Parents who spend that time which belongs to their 
children in offices of public social worship, have mis- 
taken the nature of their special obligation. I do not 
pretend to say what time, or how much time, an}^ in- 
dividual shall spend in any religious service. Tliis 
question . does not belong to the present discussion. 



THE LAW OF PARENTS. 327 

But I say Diat this time must be taken out of that 
which belongs to ourselves ; and it might easily be 
abstracted from that devoted to visithig, company, or 
idleness ; it should not be taken from that which be- 
longs, by the ordinance of God, to our children. 

It will be easily seen that the fulfilment of these obli- 
gations, in the manner I have suggested, would work a 
very perceptible change in the whole fabric of society. 
It would check the eager desire of accumulation, re- 
press the ardor of ambition, and allay the feverish thirst 
for selfish gratification. But it would render a family, 
in truth, a society. It would bring back parents and 
children to the relations to each other which God has 
established. It would restore to home a meaning, and 
to the pleasures of home a reality, which they are in 
danger of losing altogether. Forsaking the shadow of 
happiness, we should find the substance. Instead of a 
continual round of physical excitation, and the cease- 
less pursuit of pleasures which, as every one confesses, 
end in ennui and disappointment, we should secure 

A sacred and home-felt delight, 
A sober certainty of waking bliss, 

of which previously we could have had no conception. 

The Rights of Parents. 

The right of the parent over the child is, of course, 
commensurate with his duties. If he be under obliga- 
tion to educate his child in such manner as he sui> 
poses wall most conduce to the child's happiness and 
the welfare of society, he has, from necessity, the right 
to control the child in everything necessary to the fal- 
filment of this obligation. The only limits imposed 
are, that he exert this control no further than is ne- 
cessary to the fulfilment of his obligation, and that he 
exert it with the intention for which it was conferred. 
While he discharges his parental duties within these 
limits, he is, by the law of God, exempt from interfer- 
ence, both from the individual and from society. 

Of the duration of this obligation and this right. 

1. In infancy the control of the parent over the 



«^28 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

cliild is absolute ; that is, it is exercised without any 
respect whatever to the wishes of the child. 

2. When the child has arrived at majority, and has 
assumed the responsibility of its own conduct, both the 
responsibility and the right of the parent cease al- 
together. 

The time of majority is fixed inmost civilized nations 
by statute. In Great Britain and in the United States, 
an individual becomes of age when he has completed 
his twenty-first year. The law therefore settles the 
rights and obligations of the parties, so far as civil so- 
ciety is concerned, but does not pretend to decide upon 
the moral relations of the parties. 

3. As the rights and duties of the parent at one pe- 
riod are absolute, and at another cease altogether, it is 
reasonable to infer that the control of the parent should 
be exercised on more and more liberal principles, that 
a wider and wider discretion should be allowed to the 
child, and that his feeling and predilections should be 
more and more consulted as he grows older ; so that, 
when he comes to act for himself, he may have become 
prepared for the responsibility which he assumes by as 
extensive an experience as the nature of the case 
admits. 

4. Hence I think that a parent is bound to consult 
the wislies of his child, in proportion to his. age, when- 
ever this can be done innocently ; and also to vary his 
modes of enforcing authority, so as to adapt them to 
the motives of which the increasing intellect of the 
child is susceptible. While it is true that the treat- 
ment proper for a young man would ruin a child, it 
is equally true that the treatment proper for a child 
might very possibly ruin a young man. The right of 
control, however, still rests with the parent, and the 
duty of obedience still is imposed upon the child. The 
parent is merely bound to exercise it in a manner suited 
to the nature of the being over whom it is to be exerted. 

The authority of instructors is a delegated authority, 
derived immediately from the parent. He, for the time 
being, stands to the pupil in loco parentis. Hence tlie 



THE LATV OF PaEENTS. 329 

relation between him and the pupil is analogous to that 
between parent and child ; that is, it is the relation of 
superiority and inferiority. The right of the instructor 
is to command ; the obligation of the pupil is to obey. 
The right of the instructor is, h)wever, to be exercised, 
as I before stated when speaking of the parent, for the 
pupil's benefit. For the exercise of it he is responsi- 
Ijle to the parent, whose professional agent he is. He 
must use his own best skill and judgment in governing 
and teaching his pupil. If he and the parent cannot 
agree, the connection must be dissolved. But, as he is 
a professional agent, he must use his own intellect and 
skill in the exercise of his own profession, and in the 
use of it he is to be interfered with by no one. 

28» 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE LAW OF CHIIDREK. 

I SHALL consider in this chapter the duties and the 
rights of children, and their duration. 

The Duties of Childeen. 

I. Obedience. By this I mean that the relation be- 
tween parent and child obliges the latter to conform to 
the will of the former because it is his will, aside from 
the consideration that what is required seems to the 
child best or wisest. The only limitation to this rule 
is the limitation of conscience. A parent has no right 
to require a child to do what it believes to be wrong ; 
and a child is under no obligation, in such a case, to 
obey the commands of a parent. The child must obey 
God, and meekly suffer the consequences. It has even, 
in this case, no right to resist. 

The reasons of this rule are manifest. 

1. The design of the whole domestic constitution 
would be frustrated without it. This design, from what 
has been already remarked, is to enable the child to 
avail itself of the wisdom, knowledge, and experience 
of the parent, and also of that affection which prompts 
the parent to employ all these for the well-being of the 
child. But of these advantages the child can never 
avail himself, unless he yield obedience to the parent's 
authority, until he have acquired that age and experi- 
ence which are necessary to enable him to direct and 
to govern himself. 

2. That this is the duty of children is made appar- 
ent by the precepts of the holy Scriptures. 

Exodus XX. 12 : " Honor thy father and thy mother, 



THE LAW OF CHILDREI^. 331 

that tliy days may be long in the land which the Lord 
thy God giveth thee." This, as St. Paul remarks 
(Eph. vi. 2, 3), is the only commandment in the dec- 
alogue to which a special promise is annexed. 

In the Book of Proverbs no duty is more frequently 
inculcated than this ; and of no one are the consequen- 
ces of obedience and disobedience more fully set forth. 

A few examples may serve as a specimen. 

Proverbs i. 8, 9 : " My son, keep the instruction of 
thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother. 
They shall be an ornament of grace [that is, a graceful 
ornament] unto thy head, and chains about thy neck." 

Proverbs vi. 20 : " Keep thy father's commandment, 
and forsake not the law of thy mother." 

Proverbs xiii. 1 : "A wise son heareth his father's 
instructions, but a scorner heareth not rebuke." 

The same duty is frequently inculcated in the New 
Testament. 

Ephesians vi. 1 : " Children, obey your parents in 
the Lord, for this is right. ''^ The meaning of the phrase, 
" in the Lord," I suppose to be, in accordance with the 
will of the Lord. 

From such passages as these — and I have selected only 
a very few from a great number that might have been 
quoted — we learn, 1. That the holy Scriptures plainly 
inculcate obedience to parents as a command of God. 
He who is guilty of disobedience, therefore, violates not 
merely the command of man, but that also of God. 
And it is, therefore, our duty always to urge it, and to 
exact it, mainly on this ground. 

2. That they consider obedience to parents as no in 
dication of meanness and servility, but, on the con 
trary, as the most honorable and delightful exhibition 
of character that can be manifested by the young. It 
is a graceful ornament, which confers additional beauty 
upon that which was otherwise lovely. 

3. That tlie violation of this commandment exposes 
the transgressor to special and peculiar judgments. 
And, even without the light of revelation, I think that 
the observation of every one must convince liim that 



832 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

the curse of Grod rests heavily upon filial disobedience, 
and that his peculiar blessing follows filial obedience. 
And, indeed, what can be a surer indication of future 
profligacy and ruin than that turbulent impatience of 
restraint which leads a youth to follow the headlong 
impulses of passion in preference to the counsels of age 
and experience, even when conveyed in the language of 
tender and disinterested affection ? 

n. Another duty of children to parents is reverence. 
This is implied in the commandment, '-^ Honor thy father 
and thy mother." By reverence, I mean that conduct 
and those sentiments which are due from an inferior to 
a superior. The parent is the superior, and the child 
the inferior, by virtue of the relation which God him- 
self has established. Whatever may be the rank or the 
attainments of the child, and how much soever they 
may be superior to those of the parent, these can never 
abrogate the previous relation which God has established. 
The child is bound to show deference to the parent 
whenever it is possible, to evince that he considers him 
his superior, and to perform for him services which he 
would perform for no other person. And let it always 
be remembered that in this there is nothing degrading, 
but everything honorable. No more ennobling and dig- 
nified trait of character can be exhibited than that of 
universal and profound filial respect. The same prin- 
ciple, carried out, would teach us universal and tender 
respect for old age^ at all times and under all circum- 
stances. 

III. Another duty of children is filial affection^ or the 
peculiar affection due from a child to a parent because 
he is a parent. A parent may be entitled to our love 
because he is a man, or because he is such aman^ — that 
is, possessing such excellencies of character, — but, be- 
sides all this, and aside from it all, he is entitled to our 
affection on account of the relation in which he stands 
to us. This imposes upon us the duty not only of hiding 
his foibles, of covering his defects, of shielding him from 
misfortune, and of seeking his happiness by what means 
ioever Providence has placed in our power, but also of 



THE LAW OF CHILDREN. 333 

performing all tins, and all the otlier duties of which 
we have spoken, from love to him because he is our 
parent, — a love which shall render such services not 
a burden, but a pleasure, under what circumstances 
soever it may be our duty to render them. 

TV. It is the duty of the child, whenever it is by the 
providence of God rendered necessary, to support his 
parent in old age. That man would deserve the repu- 
tation of a monster who would not cheerfully deny 
himself in order to be able to minister to the comforts 
of the declining years of his parent. 

The Eights of Childre:^. 

1. Children have a right to maintenance, and, as has 
been remarked before, a maintenance corresponding to 
the circumstances and condition of the parent. 

2. Tbej have a right to expect that the parent will 
exert his authority, not for his own advantage, nor from 
caprice, but for the good of the child, according to his 
best judgment. If the parent act otherwise, he violates 
his duty to his children and to God. This, however, in 
no manner liberates the child from liis obligations to his 
parent. Tnese remani m full force, the same as before. 
The wrong of one party is no excuse for wrong in the 
other. It is the child's misfortune, but it can never be 
alleviated by domestic strife, and still less by. filial diso- 
bedience and ingratitude. 

Of the duration of these rights and obligations. 

1. Of obedience. The child is bound to obey the 
parent so long as he remains in a state of pupilage ; 
that is, so long as the parent is responsible for his con- 
duct, and he is dependent upon his parent. This period, 
so far as society is concerned, as has been remarked, is 
fixed, in most countries, by statute. Sometimes, by the 
consent of both parties, it ceases before that period ; at 
other times, it continues beyond it. With tlie termina- 
tion of minority, let it occur when it will, the duty of 
obedience ceases. After this, however, the advice of the 
parent is entitled to more deference and respect than 
that of any other person ; but, as the individual now 
acts upon his own responsibility, it is only advice, since 
it lias ceased to be autlioritative. 



33-4 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

2. The conscience of a child becomes capable of deliK 
erate decision long before its period of pupilage ceases. 
Whenever this decision is fairly and honestly expressed, 
the parent ought not to interfere with it. It is his duty 
to strive to convince his child, if he think it to be in 
error; but, if he cannot succeed in producing convic 
tion, he must leave the child, like any other human 
being, to obey God in the manner it thinks will bo most 
acceptable to him. 

3. The obligation of respect and affection for parents 
never ceases, but rather increases with advancing age. 
As the child grows older, he becomes capable of more 
disinterested affection, and of the manifestation of more 
delicate respect; and as the parent grows older, he 
feels more sensibly the need of attention ; and his hap- 
piness is more decidedly dependent upon it. • As we 
increase in years, it should, therefore, be our more 
assiduous endeavor to make a suitable return to our 
parents for their kindness bestowed upon us in infancy 
and youth, and to manifest, by unremitting attention 
and delicate and heartfelt affection, our repentance for 
those acto of thoughtlessness and waywardness which 
formerly may have grieved them. 

That a peculiar insensibility exists to the obligations 
of the parental and filial relation, is, I fear, too evident 
to need any extended illustration. The notion that a 
family is a society, and that a society must be governed, 
and that the right and the duty of governing this soci- 
ety rest with the parent, seems to be vanishing from the 
minds of men. In the place of it, it seems to be the 
prevalent opinion that children may grow up as they 
please, and that the exertion of parental restraint is an 
infringement upon the personal liberty of the child. 
But all this will not abrogate the law of God, nor will 
it avert the punishments which he has connected indis- 
solubly with disobedience. The parent who neglects 
his duty to his children is sowing thickly for himself 
and for tliem the seeds of his future misery. He who 
is accustoming his children to habits of thoughtless ca- 
price and reckless expenditure, and who stupidly smiles 



THE LAW OF CHILDREN. 335 

at the ebullitions of youtliful passion and the indulgence 
in fashionable vice as indications of a manly spirit, 
needs no prophet to foretell that, unless the dissolute- 
ness of his family leave him early childless, his gray 
hairs will be brought down with sorrow to the grave. 

I remarked, at the close of the last chapter, that the 
duty of instructors was analogous to that of parents, 
and that they stood to pupils in a relation essentially 
parental. It is proper here to add, that a pupil stands 
to his instructor in a relation essentially Jilial. His 
duty is obedience : first to his parent ; and, secondly, to 
the professional agent to whom he has been committed 
by his parent. The equals, in this relation, are the 
parent and the instructor : to both of them is the pupil 
the inferior ; and to both is he under the obligation of 
obedience, respect, and reverence. 

Now, such being the nature of the relation, it is the 
duty of the instructor to enforce obedience, and of the 
pupil to render it. It would be very easy to show that 
on the fulfilment of this duty on the part of the instructor 
the interests of education and the welfare of the young 
vitally depend. Without discipline there can be formed 
no valuable habit. Without it, when young persons 
are congregated together, far away from the restraints 
of domestic society, exposed to the allurements of ever- 
present temptation, and excited by the stimulus of 
youthful passion, every vicious habit must be cultivated. 
The young man may applaud the negligent and pusil- 
lanimous instructor ; but when that man, no longer 
young, suffers the result of that neglect and pusilla- 
nimity, it is well if a better spirit have taught him to 
mention the name of that instructor without ^jitter 
execration. 

In colleges and halls, in ancient days, 

There dwelt a sage called Discipline: 

His eye was meek and gentle, and a smile 

Played on his lips; and in his speech was heard 

Paternal sweetness, dignity, and love. 

The occupation dearest to his heart 

Was to encourage goodness. Learning grew 

Beneath his care, a thriving, vigorous plant. 



336 PK ACTIO AL ETHICS. 

The mind was well informed, the passions held 

Subordinate, and diligence was choice. 

If e'er it chanced, as sometimes chance it must. 

That one, among so many, overleaped 

The limits of control, his gentle eye 

Grew stern, and darted a severe rebuke. 

His frown was full of terror, and his voice 

Shook the delinquent with such fits of awe 

As left him not till penitence had won 

Lost favor back again, and closed the breach. 

But Discipline at length, 
O'erlooked and unemployed, grew sick, and died. 
Then study languished, emulation slept. 
And virtue fled. The schools became a scene 
Of solemn farce, where ignorance in stilts. 
His cap well lined with logic not his own, 
With parrot tongue performed the scholar's partj 
Proceeding soon a graduated dunce. 
What was learned. 
If aught was learned in childhood, is forgot; 
And such expense as pinches parents blue. 
And mortifies the liberal hand of love, 
Is squandered in pursuit of idle sports 
And vicious pleasures. 



CLASS III. 

DUTIES TO MAN AS A MEMBER OF CIVIL SOCIETY, 

To this class belong the duties of magistrates and cit- 
izens. As these, however, would be but imperfectly 
understood without a knowledge of the nature of civil 
society, and of the relations subsisting between society 
and the individual, it will be necessary to consider 
these latter before entering upon the former. I shall, 
therefore, attempt to explain, first, The Nature and 
Limitations of Civil Society ; secondly, Government^ or 
the Manney" in which the Obligations of Society/ are Dis- 
charged ; thirdly, The Duties of Magistrates ; fourthly, 
The Duties of Citizens, 

S9 



CHAPTER I 

OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 

As civil society is a somewhat complicated conception, 
it may be useful, in the first place, to consider the na- 
ture of a society in its simplest form. This chapter will 
therefore be divided into two sections. The first treats 
of the constitution of a simple society ; the second, of 
the constitution of civil society. 



SECTION 7. 

or A SIMPLE SOCIETY. 

I. Oj the nature of a simple society. 

1. A society of any sort originates in a peculiar form 
of contract, entered into between each several individual 
forming the society on the one part, and all the other 
members of the (society on the other part. Each party 
promises to do certain things to or for the other, and 
puts itself under moral obligation to do so. Hence we 
see that conscience, or the power of recognizing moral 
obligation, is, in the very nature of things, essential to 
the existence of a society. Without it, a society could 
not be formed. 

2. This contract, like any other, respects those things, 
and those things only, in which the parties have thus 
bound themselves to each other. As the individual is 
under no obligation to belong to the society, but tlie 
obligation is purely voluntary, he is bound in no other 



OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY. 339 

manner, ana lor no other purpose, than those hi and 
for which he has hound himself. In all other respects 
he is as free as he was before. 

3. Inasmuch as the formation of a society involves 
the idea of a moral obligation, each party is under 
moral obligation to fulfil its part of the contract. The 
society is bound to do what it has promised to every 
individual, and every individual is bound to do what he 
has promised to the society. If either party cease to 
do this, the compact, like any other mutual contract, is 
dissolved. 

4. Inasmuch as every individual is in all respects, 
excepting those in which he has bound himself, as free 
as he was before, the society has no right to impose 
upon the individual any other obligation than those 
under which he has placed himself. For, as he has 
come under no such obligation to them, they have no 
more control over him than any other men. And, as 
their whole poiuer is limited to that which has been 
conferred upon them by individuals, beyond this limit 
they are no society ; they have no power ; their act is 
really out of the society^ and is, of course, binding 
upon no member of the society any more than upon 
any other man. 

5. As .every member of the society enters it upon 
the same terms, — that is, as every one comes under the 
same obligations to the society, and the society comes 
under the same obligations to him, — they are, l)y conse- 
quence, so far as the society is concerned, all equals or 
fellows. All have equal rights, and all are subject to 
the same obligations. 

6. That which defines the obligations under which 
the individual and the society have come, in respect to 
each other, is called the constitution of the society. It 
is intended to express the object of the association, and 
the manner in which that object is to be accomplished ; 
that is to say, it declares what the individual promises 
to do for the society, what the society promises to do 
for the individual, and the object for which this associ 
ation between the parties is formed. 



340 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 



iintary, every member naturally has a right to dissolve 
the comiectioii when he pleases ; and the society have 
also a corresponding right. As, however, this would 
frequently expose both parties to inconvenience, it is 
common in the articles of the constitution, or the form 
of compact, to specify on what terms this may be done. 
When this part of the agreement has thus been entered 
into, it of course becomes as binding as any other part 
of it. 

II. Of the manner in ivhich rjch a society shall be 
governed. 

The object of any such association is to do some- 
thing. But it is obvious that they can act only on on© 
of three suppositions : by unanimity, by a minority, or 
by a majority. To expect unanimity in the opinions of 
a being so diversified in character as man, is frivolous. 
To suspend the operation of many upon the decisions 
of one, is manifestly unjust, would be subversive of the 
whole object of the association, and would render the 
whole society more inefficient than the separate indi- 
viduals of which it is composed. To suppose a society 
to be governed by a minority would be to suppose a 
less number of equals always superior in wisdom and 
goodness to a greater number, which is absurd. It 
remains, therefore, that every society must of necessity 
be governed by a majority. 

III. Of the limits within which the power of the 
majority is restricted. 

The majority, as we have just seen, is vested, from 
necessity, with the whole power of the society. But it 
derives its power wholly and exclusively from the so- 
ciety, and of course it can have no power beyond, or 
diverse from, that of the society itself. Now, as the 
power of the society is limited by the concessions made 
by each individual respectively, and is bound by its 
obligations to each individual, the power of the majority 
is manifestly restricted within precisely the same limits. 

Thus, to be more particular, a majority has no right 
to do anything which the individuals forming the society 
have not authorized the society to do. 



OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY. 341 

1. They have no right to change the object of the 
=ociety. If this be changed, another society is formed, 
lid th^ individual members are, as at first, at liberty 
o uniti^ with it or not. 

2. ^'hQj have no right to do anything beyond^ or 
afferent froniy the object of the society. The reasons 
ire the same as in the former instance. 

3. Nor have they a right to do anything in a manner 
different from that to which the members, upon enter- 
ing the society, agreed. The manner set forth in the 
constitution was that by which the individuals bound 
themselves, and they are bound by nothing else. 

4. Nor have they a right to do anything which vio- 
lates the principle of the entire social equality of the 
members. As all subjected themselves equally to the 
same rules, any act which supposes a difference of right 
is at variance with the fundamental principle of the 
compact. 

And hence, from the nature of the compact, it is ob- 
vious that, while a majority act within the limits of 
the authority thus delegated to them, the individual is 
under a moral obligation to obey their decisions ; for 
he has voluntarily placed himself under such obligation, 
and he is bound to fulfil it. 

And, on the other hand, the society is bound to fulfil 
to the individual the contract which they have formed 
with him, and to carry forward the object of the asso- 
ciation in the manner and in the spirit of the contract 
entered into. Nor is this a mere matter of form or of 
expediency : it is a matter of moral obligation, volun- 
tarily entered into ; and it is as binding as any otlier 
contract formed under any other circumstances. 

And again, if the society or the majority act in vio- 
lation of these engagements, or if they do anything not 
committed to them by the individual, such act is not 
binding upon any member ; and he is under no more 
obligation to be governed by it than he would he if iC 
were done by any other persons, or if not done at all. 

If these principles be correct, they will, I tliiiili, 
throw some l^ght upon the question of the durability 
29* 



S42 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

of corporations. A corporation is a society established 
for certain purposes, which are to be executed in a cer- 
tain manner. He who joins.it, joins it under these con- 
ditions ; and the whole power of the society consists in 
power to do these things in this manner. If they do 
anything else, they, when doing it, are not this society, 
but some other. And of course those, whether the 
minority or the majority, who act according to the ori- 
ginal compact, are the society ; and the others, whether 
more or less, are something else. The act of incorpo- 
ration is governed by the same principles. It renders 
the persons so associated a body politic, and recognized 
in law, but it does not interfere with the original prin- 
ciples of such an association. The corporation, there- 
fore, are the persons, whether more or less, who adhere 
to the original agreement ; and any act declaring any- 
thing else to be the society is unjust and void. 

But suppose them all to have altered their sentiments. 
The society is then, of course, dissolved. They may, if 
they choose, form another society ; but they are not 
another of course^ nor can they be such until they form 
another organization. 

Again, suppose that they have property given under 
the original association, and for the promotion of its 
objects, and the whole society, or a majority of them, 
have changed its objects. I answer, If a part still re- 
main, and prosecute the original object, they are the 
society ; and the others, by changing the object, have 
ceased to be the society. The right of property vests 
with those who adhere to the original constitution. If 
all have changed the object, the society is dissolved, 
and all ownership, so far as the property is concerned, 
ceases. It therefore either belongs to the public, or 
reverts to the heirs at law. A company of men united 
for another object, though retaining the same name, 
have no more right to inherit it than any other citizens. 
The right of a legislature to give it to them by special 
act is even very questionable. Legislatures are not 
empowered to bestow property upon men at will ; and 
such grant, being beyond the power conceded to the 
legislator, seems to mo to be null and void. 



OF A SIMPLE SOCIETY. oiS 

The principles of this section seem to me to demand 
the special attention of those who are at present en- 
gaged in conducting the business of voluntary associa- 
tions. It should always be remembered that he who 
joins a voluntary association, joins it for a specified ob- 
ject, and for no other. The association itself has one 
object, and no other. This object, and the manner in 
which it is to be accomplished, ouglit to be plainly set 
forth in the constitution. Now, when a majority at- 
tempt to do anything not comprehended within this 
object thus set forth, or in a manner at variance with 
that prescribed, they violate the fundamental article of 
the compact, and the society is virtually dissolved. 
And against such infraction of right it is the duty of 
the individual to protest ; and if it be persisted in, it is 
his duty to withdraw. And it seems to me that, other- 
wise, the whole benefit of voluntary associations will be 
lost ; and if the whole society do it, the society is 
changed, and it is changed in no manner the less be- 
cause its original name is retained. If the objects of 
such associations be not restricted, their increasing 
complication will render them unmanageable by any 
form of agency. If an individual, when he unites with 
others for one object, knows not for how many objects, 
nor for what modes of accomplishing them, he shall be 
held responsible, who will ever unite in a benevolent 
enterprise ? And if masses of men may be thus asso- 
ciated in every part of a country for one professed 
object, and this object may be modified, changed, or 
exceeded, according to the will of an accidental ma- 
jority, voluntary associations will very soon be trans- 
formed into the tools of intriguing and ambitious men, 
and will thus become a curse instead of a blessing. 



844 PKACnCAL ETHICS. 

SECTION II, 

OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 

In order the more clearly to understand this subject, 
we shall, in the first place, treat of society in distinction 
from government. It may exist without government. 
Government is merely the instrument by which it ac- 
complishes its purposes. Government is the agent, 
society is the principal. 

In presenting this subject, we shall commence with 
the axiom, which we have already frequently considered, 
namely. Every man has a right to himself. That is, 
every man has a right to his own body, and to his fac- 
ulties both of body and mind ; he is at liberty to use 
them as he will, subject only to his responsibility to 
God. Within this limitation, he may use them as he 
will, and for using them in any particular way he 
need give no other reason than that such is his choice. 
As this right is universal, and belongs just as much to 
my neighbor as to myself, my right over my own mean? 
of happiness, therefore, forbids me from interfering witn 
the means of happiness bestowed upon another. Over 
my own faculties, and the means of happiness which 
they present, I am supreme ; beyond these I have no 
right whatever. 

ThQ use of our faculties within the above limit pro- 
duces results. To these results the individual also has 
a right. The man who, on unoccupied land, produces a 
crop of corn, has a right to that corn. It is the joint 
product of his labor and the powers of. the soil. His 
own labor enters into every particle of it. It is his as 
truly as his faculties themselves, and he has a right to 
dispose of it as he will. 

2. But every man has the physical power in some 
way or other to violate the rights of his neighbor. Ho 
may deprive him of life ; he may reduce him to subjec- 
tion to his will; he may seize upon his property by force, 



OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 3'.15 

or procure it by stealth, and in a thousand ways may 
violate the rights which have been conferred on him by 
the Creator. And, unfortunately, it is found to be the 
fact that men have the disposition in various degrees 
thus to injure each other ; not that they love injury /or 
itself^ but choose injury of another only when it is ne- 
cessary to the accomplishment of their unrestrained 
desires. When they have no personal desire to gratify, 
conscience teaches them to disapprove of injustice, and 
condemn the evil-doer. 

3. Under these circumstances, the individual can pro- 
tect himself from injury, or redress the injuries which 
he has suffered, by nothing but his own physical power. 
But this is manifestly insufficient. He who was able 
at first to violate right, has commonly the power to 
violate it again, and to resist with effect the claims of 
the injured party. Should every one attempt by his 
own arm to redress his wrongs, or protect his rights, 
the world would present a scene of nothing but intol- 
erable strife. And the strife would be commonly fruit- 
less, for power is as likely to be united with wrong as 
with right. The contest would, therefore, have no 
tendency to the establishment of justice. But this is 
not all. It is impossible for us to redress our own 
grievances without awakening in ourselves the spirit 
of revenge. Yindictiveness only increases wrong, and 
renders the injurious person the injured. Thus is laid 
the foundation of contention, growing into interminable 
wrong and unappeasable malice. Such a condition of 
human beings would be nothing else than universal 
war. 

4. How then can justice be administered ? How can 
right be protected and injury redressed ? I answer, 
Provision is made for this in the social nature of man. 
Every man is so created as instinctive It/ to commit to 
the community of his felloic-men the protection of his 
rights and the redress of his icrongs ; and his felloiu- 
men, on the other hand, instinctively assume this au- 
thority. They feel that they assume it innocently ; nay 
more, they feel guilty if they do not exert it. Every 



31G PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

man fcels that he stands in this relation to society, and 
society feels that it stands in the correspondhig relation 
to him. In this manner is the society of human behigs 
established. 

The human being thus surrenders the right to re- 
dress his wrongs and to protect his rights by the prowess 
of his own arm^ and receives in return the povjer of the 
■whole community to do this for him. Instead of meas- 
uring redress by his own exasperated feelings, redress 
is administered by those who have no personal interest 
in the matter, and to whose decision the injurious per- 
son feels himself instinctively bound to submit. More 
than this, the Christian religion imposes upon us sub- 
jection to the civil power, as a matter of moral duty, 
on the ground that society is an ordinance of God. 
" Let every soul be subject to the higher powers ; for 
there is no power but o<f God ; the powers that be are 
ordained of God. Whosoever, therefore, resisteth the 
power, resisteth the ordinance of God. Wherefore we 
must needs be subject, not only for wrath, but for con- 
science' sake " (Rom. xiii. 1, 2, 5). 

5. The formation of a society on the principles stated 
above depends neither upon organization nor number ; it 
exists wherever human beings exist. As soon as they 
associate together, and form a community by themselves, 
they form a society on these principles, each individual 
surrendering himself to the whole, and the whole as- 
suming the care of each individual. Thus, we have 
heard of a case in which a company was crossing the 
wilderness of the West, and who, when far beyond the 
confines of civilization, found that one of their number 
had been murdered by a fellow-traveller. They paused 
in their journey, all feeling that their first duty was to 
do justice. They arrested the suspected person, ap- 
pointed a jury to examine the evidence and render a 
t^erdict accordingly. It was done immediately. The 
man was found guilty of murder, and was executed 
accordingly. They then proceeded on their journey. 

Or, again. During one of the British expeditions to 
fche polar regions, Dr. Richardson, the surgeon of the 



OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 347 

company, found himself in the depths of the wilderness, 
accompanied only by a midshipman, a sailor, and an 
Indian guide. The temper of the Indian had for some 
time been far from satisfactory ; when, on one occasion, 
upon the return of Dr. Richardson and the sailor to the 
tent after an absence of some hours, they found the 
midshipman dead. He had been shot, and the Indian 
declared that he had shot himself. 

Dr. Richardson and the sailor formed the only society 
withm, perhaps, a chxuit of a thousand miles. They 
proceeded to perform the functions of society in the case 
before them. They examined the body. It had been 
shot in the back, in a manner that showed that death 
by suicide was impossible. The Indian was evidently 
the murderer, and justly condemned to die. Tlie sailor 
offered to be the executioner ; but Dr. Richardson, as 
the superior officer, considered that the duty devolved 
on himself. He, therefore, as soon as the Indian en- 
tered the tent, shot him, himself. 

I think that while we all regret the necessity for these 
acts, we approve of the acts themselves. We believe 
that the executioners did not transcend their rightful 
authority. They acted innocently. They did no more 
than perform a deed of justice, and they acted from 
a stern conviction of duty. These were evidently 
the sentiments of Dr. Richardson, for he has related the 
transaction, with all its particulars, in his report of the 
expedition. I think that the common conscience of 
humanity acquits him of all blame in the occurrence. 

6. It will be seen, from what has been said, that soci- 
ety confers no right upon any man ; it only secures to 
him the enjoyment of rights already bestowed upon him 
by the Creator. The Creator who bestowed them has 
secured them to him by the constitution under which 
man was created. That society best fulfils its office 
which most perfectly protects the rights and redresses 
the wrongs of every individual, and where every indi- 
vidual confides these duties wholly to society. 

Hence ve see the error of the notion, sometimes- en- 
tertained, that property, naj, that even right and wrong, 



348 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

are merely the creatures of society. I know that men 
may declare that they will punish or reward particular 
actions, but this makes the actions neither right nor 
wrong. They may protect me in the enjoyment of my 
property, but they cannot make that my property 
which was not mine before they took action on the 
subject. 

7. Inasmuch as every man has been created a con- 
stituent member of society, every man has a right to it. 
He may differ from the community in which he lives in 
various respects, and may hold opinions quite dissimilar 
from theirs ; but, so long as he violates no right, he is 
entitled to all the privileges of the social state. Hi.^ 
person and his property are under the protection of the 
community. He may be a foreigner, alone and friend- 
less, yet society covers all his rights as a man under the 
shield of her protection. The infant of a day old is 
watched over and protected by the same benevolent 
power, and no man may lay upon it an unkind hand 
without exposing himself to the penalty of the laws" 
which society has enacted for the protection of every 
individual. 

Hence we see the error of those who suppose that any 
company of men who choose to organize a society for 
themselves, and who even may settle in the wilderness 
for this purpose, have a right to organize it upon such 
principles as they please. They have no right to form 
a society in violation of the social laws of man. God 
evidently intended that man should live in society, and 
of this right he cannot be deprived unless he violates 
some social law. His opinions and practices may differ 
from ours ; but if he commits no injury, his right to the 
privileges of his social nature remains intact. It is not 
enough for us to say, if he does not agree with us, let 
him form some other society for himself. He has a 
right to this society, and so long as he interferes with 
the rights of no one, he is as free of this society as ai^ 
other man. 

It was in this respect, I suppose, that our Puritan 
forefathers erred. They came to this land, inhabited 



OF CIVIL SOCIETY. 349 

only by wandering savages, desiring freedom to worship 
God ; and in establishing the foundations of their or- 
ganization, assumed the authority to punish by banish- 
ment, or even by death, all those who differed from 
them in what they considered important religious opin- 
ions. They believed in their own right to worship God 
according to the dictates of their own consciences, but 
they did not allow this to be the common right of all 
men. Hence arose the banishment of Roger Williams, 
the severe treatment of Baptists, the execution of 
Quakers, and the harsh measures dealt out to dissentients 
from their own religious belief. A true conception of 
the nature of religious liberty would have taught them 
that the right which they so nobly claimed for them- 
selves was equally the right of every human being. 

8, We see, from what has been stated, that a vast 
difference exists between civil society and t,'.ie voluntary 
societies and associations existing among men. Men 
belong to a voluntary society, because they choose to 
unite with it : they select the object which they wish to 
accomplish ; they adopt such means as they suppose will 
advance their purposes ; they continue united as long 
as they see fit ; and any member dissolves his connection 
with the society as he will, or they may all agree to 
abolish the society altogether. 

On the contrary, it is not a matter of choice whether 
a man will or will not be a member of civil society. 
He becomes a member of it as soon as he begins to live, 
and society at once bestows upon him the full benefit 
of its protection. That protection he needs every mo- 
ment of his life. This protection, which others afford 
to him, he is under obligations to unite in affording to 
others. He cannot free himself from his obligation, 
nor live without the protection of society. It is an 
influence which, like the atmosphere, surrounds him 
everywhere and always, and he can no more dissever 
himself from it than he can cease to breathe. 

But it may be said that societies may err, as well as 
individuals, and may impose unjust restrictions upon 
its members, or may even interfere with their obliga- 



S50 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

tions to God. This is true ; and the question arises, 
What then is to be done ? We see at once that the 
attempt is hopeless for the individual, by force, to over- 
come the power of society. He has the right to exhibil 
what he believes to be the truth before men, and gain 
as many converts to his opinions as he can. If he suc- 
ceed in changing the opinions of his fellow-citizens, they 
will agree with him, and the variance between the parties 
will cease. If he, however, is unable to do this, and 
cannot contend by force, what then shall he do ? I see 
no other course open for him than to do whatever he 
believes to be right, dispassionately and boldly, and 
suffer the consequences. These may be suffering even 
to martyrdom ; but if he suffer in the cause of right, he 
may in this manner do more to change the minds of 
men than by the most convincing argument. Persecu- 
tion is apt to react powerfully upon the persecutor. Thus 
it was said in early days, " The blood of the martyrs was 
the seed of the church." It is from just such martyr- 
doms that the greatest and most important improvements 
in society have originated. 

9. This relation of the individual to society is the 
foundation of some of the most interesting affections in 
our nature. As society is thus the source of innumer- 
able blessings, we look up to it with gratitude, vener- 
ation, and love. It is to us a sort of parent, to whom 
we owe a vast debt of filial obedience. We all know 
the special regard in which we hold a neighbor, a towns- 
man, a fellow-citizen of our state, or of the United 
States. Thus is formed the affection of patriotism, or 
love of country, one of the most ennobling virtues that 
can adorn our character. It is thus that we joyfully 
suffer the loss of all things, even life itself, for our 
native land ; and the sentiment has for twenty centuries 
thrilled the hearts of thousands, Dulce et decorum est 
pro patria mori. This particular form of love of society 
gives us victory over the love of self, and raises us to 
the dignity not only of intelligent, but of social and 
moral beings. 

1 0. Wrom tJiis iust and proper love of society, it not 



OF ClVn. SOCIETY. S-.i 

unnaturally follows that we are disposed to conco-.i.' 
to it other forms of authority. Some of these tend to 
good, others to evil. Thus, universal education is an 
undoubted blessing, and it can best be secured by con- 
fiding it to the public charge. The control of society 
over the labor of the individual, over his religious opin- 
ions, over his personal expenses, and over various other 
innocent acts, can work nothing but evil. Hence, in 
respect to the claims of society, an important distinc- 
tion is to be taken. Society, without asking the consent 
of the individual, may properly tax him for his propor- 
tionate share of all the necessary expenses of the gov- 
ernment. All that the citizen can rightfully claim is 
that no more than his proportionate part be demanded. 
A government can demand money for no other purpose, 
unless the authority to do so has been conferred on it 
by society. It is not sufficient for the majority to be- 
lieve the object to be wise or benevolent : the question, 
first of all, is, has power been conferred on them to act 
in the premises ? Thus, it may be supposed that the 
good order of society requires that churches be built 
and ministers of religion supported by law. All this 
would avail nothing until it first be shown that the 
power to support religion by law had been conferred by 
the peo^jle themselves on their legislators. Until the 
article of the constitution be shown by which this 
power is conferred, ail such acts are usurpation and 
tyranny. 



CHAPTER II. 

OF THE MODE IN WHICH THE OBJECTS OF SOCIETY ARE 
ACCOMPLISHED, 

We have thus far treated merely of the constitation 
and obligations of society, and of the obligations hence 
devolving upon each. These obligations are to protect 
the individual from infractions of the law of reciprocity, 
and to redress his wrongs if he have been injured. 

But it is manifest that this obligation cannot be dis- 
charged by the whole of society as a body. If a man 
steal from his neighbor, the whole community cannot 
leave their occupations to detect, to try, and to punish 
the thief. Or, if a law is to be enacfed respecting the 
punishment of theft, it cannot be done by the whole 
community, but must of necessity be intrusted to dele- 
gates. On the principle of division of labor, it is man- 
ifest that this service will be both more cheaply and 
more perfectly done by those who devote themselves to 
it, than by those who are for the greater part of the 
time engaged in other occupations. 

Now, I suppose a government to be that system of 
delegated agencies by which these obligations of society 
to the individual are fulfilled. 

And, moreover, as every society may have various 
engagements to form with other independent societies^ 
it is convenient, in general, that this business should be 
transacted by this same system of agencies. These two 
offices of government, though generally united, are in 
their nature distinct. Thus we see, in our own country, 
the State governments are, to a considerable degree, 
intrusted with the first, while a part of the former, and 
all the latter power, vest in the General governikvent. 



HOW THE ENDS OF SOCIETY ARE ACCOMPLISHED. 353 

A government thus understood is naturally divided 
into three parts. 

1. An individual may from ignorance violate the 
rights of his neighbor, and thus innocently expose him- 
self to punishment. Or, if he violate his neighbor's 
rights maliciously, and justly merit punishment, a pun- 
ishment may be inflicted more severe than the nature 
of the case demands. To avoid this, it is necessary 
that the various forms of violation be as clearly as pos- 
sible defined, and also that the penalty be plainly and 
explicitly attached to each. This is a law. This, as wo 
have shown, must be done by delegates. These dele- 
gates are called a legislature, and the individual mem- 
bers of it are legislators. 

From what we have said, their power is manifestly 
limited. They have no power except to execute tho 
obligations which society has undertaken to fulfil towards 
the individual. This is all that society has conferred, 
for it is all that society had to confer. 

If legislators assume any power not conferred on them 
by society,. or exercise any power conferred, for any 
purpose different from that for which it was conferred, 
they violate right, and are guilty of usurpation. 

2. But suppose a law to be enacted ; that is, a crime 
to be defined, and the penalty to be affixed. It has ref- 
erence to no particular case ; for, when enacted, no case 
existed to be affected by it. Suppose, now, an individual 
to be accused of violating this law. Here it is neces- 
sary to apply the law to this particular case. In order 
to do this, we must ascertain, first, whether the accused 
did commit the act laid to his charge ; secondly, whether 
the act, if it be proved to have been done, is a violation 
of the law, — that is, whether it come within the descrii> 
tion of actions which the law forbids, — and, thirdly, if 
this be proved, it is necessary to declare the punishment 
which the law assigns to this particular violation. This 
is the judicial branch of the government. 

3. After the law has been thus applied to this partic- 
ular case, it is necessary that it be carried into effect. 

30* 



554 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

This devolves upon the third, or the executive branch 
of a government. 

Respecting all of these three branches of government, 
it may be remarked in general, that they are essentially 
independent of each other ; that each one has its spe- 
cific duties marked out by society, within the sphere of 
which duties it is responsible to society, and to society 
alone. Nor is this independence at all affected by the 
mode of its appointment. Society may choose a way 
of appointing an agent, but that is by no means a sur- 
render of the claim which it has upon the agent. Thus, 
society may impose upon a legislature or an executive 
the duty of appointing a judiciary ; but the judiciary is 
just as much independent of the executive or of the 
legislature as though it were appointed in some other 
way. Society, by conferring upon one branch the right 
of appointment, has conferred upon it no other right. 
The judge, although appointed by the legislator, is as 
independent of him as the legislator would be if ap- 
pointed by the judge. Each, within his own sphere, is 
under obligation to perform precisely those duties 
assigned by society, and no other. And hence arises 
the propriety of establishing the tenure of office, in each 
several branch, independently of the other. 

The two first of these departments are frequently 
sub-divided. 

Thus, the legislative department is commonly divided 
into two branches, chosen under dissimilar conditions, 
for the purpose of exerting a check upon each other, 
by representing society under different aspects, and thus 
preventing partial and hasty legislation. 

The judiciary is also generally divided. The judges 
explain and interpret the law ; while it is the province 
of the jury to ascertain the facts. 

The executive is generally sole, and executes the law 
by means of subordinate agents. Sometimes, however, 
a council is added, for the sake of advice, without whoso 
concurrence the executive cannot act. 

Sometimes the fundamental principles of the social 
compact are expressed, and the respective powers of tho 



HOW THE ENDS OF SOCIETY AUE ACCOMPLISHED. 355 

different branches of the government are defined, and 
the mode of their appohitment described in a written 
document. Such is the case in the United States. At 
other times, these principles and customs have grown 
up witli the progress of society, and are the deductions! 
drawn from, or principles established by, uncontested 
usage. The latter is the case in Great Britain. In 
either case, such principles and practices, whether ex- 
pressed or understood, are called the constitution of a 
country. 

Nations differ widely in the mode of selection tc 
office, and in the tenure by which office is held. Thus, 
under some constitutions, the government is wholly 
hereditary. In others it is partly hereditary and partly 
elective. In others it is wholly elective. 

Thus, in Great Britain, the executive and one branch 
of the legislature are hereditary ; the other branch of 
the legislature is elective. The judiciary is appointed 
by the executive, though they hold office, except in the 
case of the lord high chancellor, diiring good behavior. 

In the United States, the executive and both branches 
of the legislature are elective. The judiciary is ap- 
pointed by the executive, by and with the advice and 
consent of the senate. In the State governments the 
mode of appointment is various. 

If it be asked. Which of these is the preferable form 
of government ? the answer, I think, must be condi- 
tional. The best form of government for any people 
is the best that its present moral and social condition 
renders practicable. A people may be so entirely sur- 
rendered to the influence of passion, and so feebly influ^- 
enced by moral restraint, that a government which re- 
lied upon moral power could not exist for a day. In 
this case, a subordinate and inferior principle yet re- 
mains, — the principle of fear ; and the only resort is 
to a government of force, or a military despotism. And 
such do we see to be the fact. An anarchy always ends 
in this form of government. After this has been es- 
tablished, and habits of subordination have been formed, 
while the moral restraints are yet too feeble for self- 



856 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

government, a hereditary government, which addresses 
itself to the imagination, and strengthens itself by the 
influence of domestic connections and established usage, 
may be as good a form as a people can sustain. As 
they advance in intellectual and moral cultivation, it 
may advantageously become more and more elective ; 
and in a suitable moral condition, it may be wholly so. 
For beings who are willing to govern themselves by 
moral principle, there can be no doubt that a govern 
ment relying upon moral principle is the true form of 
government. There is no reason why a man should be 
oppressed fey taxation, and subjected to fear, who is 
willing to govern himself by the law of reciprocity. It 
is surely better for an intelligent and moral being to do 
right from his own will, than to pay another to force 
him to do right. And yet, as it is better that he should 
do right than wrong, even though he be forced to it, it 
is well that he should pay others to force him, if there 
be no other way of insuring his good conduct. God 
has rendered the blessing of freedom inseparable from 
moral restraint in the individual ; and hence it is vain 
for a people to expect to be free, unless they are first 
willing to be virtuous. 

It is on this point that the question of the perma- 
nency of the present form of government of the United 
States turns. That such a form of government requires, 
of necessity, a given amount of virtue in the people, 
cannot, I think, be doubted. If we possess that required 
amount of virtue, or if we can attain to it, the govern- 
ment will stand ; if not, it will fall. Or, if we now 
possess that amount of virtue, and do not maintain it, 
the government will fall. There is no self-sustaining 
power in any form of social organization. The only 
self-sustaining power is in individual virtue. And the 
form of a government will always adjust itself to the 
moral condition of a people. A virtuous people will, 
by their own moral power, frown away oppression, and, 
under any form of constitution, become essentially free. 
k people surrendered up to their own licentious pas- 
dons must be held in subjection by force * for every 



HOW THE ENDS OF SOCIETY ARE ACCOMPLISHED. 357 

one will find that force alone can protect him from his 
neighbors ; and he will submit to be oppressed, if he 
may only be protected. Thus, in the feudal ages, the 
small independent landholders frequently made them- 
selves slaves of one powerful chief, in order to shield 
themselves from tho incessant oppression of twenty. 



CHAPTEE III. 

THE DUTIES OF THE OFFICERS OF A GOVERNMENT. 

From what has been said, the duties of the officers of 
a government may be stated in a few words. 

It will be remembered that a government derives its 
authority from society, of which it is the agent ; that 
society, and the relations between society and individ- 
uals, are the ordinance of God : of course the officer of 
a government, as the organ of society, is bound as such 
by the law of God, and is under obligation to perform 
the duties of his office in obedience to this law. And 
hence it makes no difference how the other party to the 
contract may execute their engagements ; he, as the 
servant of God, set apart for this very thing, is bound, 
nevertheless, to act precisely according to the principles 
by which God has declared that this relation should be 
governed. 

The officers of a government are Legislative, Judi- 
cial, and Executive, 

I. Of legislative officers. 

1. It is the duty of a legislator to understand the 
social principles of man, the natare of the relation 
which subsists between the individual and society, and 
the mutual obligations of each. By these are his 
power and his obligations limited ; and, unless he thus 
inform himself, he can never know respecting any act, 
whether it be just, or whether it be oppressive. With- 
out such knowledge he can never act with a clear 
conscience. 

2. It is the duty of a legislator to understand the 
precise nature of the compact which binds together the 
particular society for which he legislates. This involves 



THE DUTIES OF THE OFFICERS OF A GOVERNMENT. 359 

the general conditions of the social compact, and some- 
thing more. It generally specifies conditions which 
the former does not contain, and besides, establishes 
the limit of the powers of the several branches of the 
government. He who enters upon the duties of a legis- 
lator witliout such knowledge, is not only wicked, but 
contemptible. Tlie injury which he inflicts is not on 
an individual, but on an entire community. There 
is probably no method in which mischief is done so 
recklessly, and on so large a scale, as by ignorant and 
thoughtless and wicked legislation. Were these plain 
considerations duly weighed, there would be somewhat 
fewer candidates for legislative office, and a somewhat 
greater deliberation on the part of the people in select- 
ing them. 

3. Having made himself acquainted with his powers 
and his obligations, he is bound to exert his power pre- 
cisely within the limits by which it is restricted, and for 
the purposes for whicli it was conferred, to the best of 
his knowledge and ability, and for the best good of the 
whole society. He is bound impartially to carry into 
effect the principles of the general and the particular 
compact, just in those respects in which the carrying 
them into effect is committed to Mm. For the action of 
others he is not responsible, unless he has been made 
so responsible. He is not the organ of a section^ or of 
a district^ much less of a party ^ but of the society at 
large. And he who uses his power for the benefit of a 
section, or of a party, is false to his duty, to his country, 
and to Iris God. He is engraving his name on the ad- 
amantine pillar of his country's history, to be gazed 
upon forever as an object of universal detestation. 

4. It is his duty to leave everything else undone. 
From no plea of present necessity, or of peculiar cir- 
cumstances, may he overstep tlie limits of his constitu- 
tional power, either in the act itself or tlie purpose for 
which the act is done. Precisely the power comjnitted 
to liim exists, and no other. If he may exercise one 
power not delegated, he may exercise another, and he 
may exercise all ; thus, on principle, he assumes himself 



StO PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

to be the fountain of power : restraint upon encroach- 
ment ceases, and all liberty is henceforth at an end. If 
the powers of a legislator are insufficient to accomplish 
the purposes of society, inconveniences will arise. It 
is better that these should be endured until the ne- 
cessity of some modification be made apparent, than to 
remedy them on principles which destroy all liberty, 
and thus remove one inconvenience by taking away the 
possibility of ever removing another. 
. The only exception to this is when an emergency 
arises, for whiah the constitution has made no provision, 
and which must be met immediately. In sucli a case, 
the executive may be obliged to act on his own au- 
thority, submitting his conduct to the approval of his 
fellow-citizens after the emergency shall have passed. 
II. Of judicial officers. 

1. The judicial officer forms an independent branch 
of the government, or a separate and distinct agent, for 
executing a particular part of the contract which society 
has made with the individual. As I have said before, 
it matters not how he is appointed : as soon as he is 
appointed, he is the agent of society, and of society 
alone. 

The judge, precisely in the same manner as the legis- 
lator, is bound by the principles of the social contract, 
and by those of the particular civil compact of the so- 
ciety in whose behalf he acts. This is the limit of his 
authority ; and it is on his own responsibility if he 
transcend it. 

2. The provisions of this compact, as they are em- 
bodied in laws, he is bound to enforce. 

And hence we see the relation in which the judge 
stands to the legislator. Both are equally limited by 
the principles of the original compact. The acts of 
both are valid, in so far as they are authorized by that 
compact. Hence, if the legislator violate his trust, and 
enact laws at variance with the constitution, the judge 
is bound not to enforce them. The fact that the onu 
has violated the constitution, imposes upon the other 
no obligation to do the same. Thus the judge, iiiito- 



THE DUTIES OF THE OFFICERS OF A GOVERNMENT. 361 

much as ho is obliged to decide upon the constitution- 
ality of a law before he enforces it, becomes accidentally, 
but in fact, a coordinate power, without whose concur- 
rence the law cannot go into effect. 

Hence we see that the duty of a judge is to under- 
stand, 

1. The principles of that contract from which ho 
derives his power ; 

2. The laws of the community, whose agent he is ; 

3. To explain these laws without fear, favor, or affec- 
tion ; and to show their bearing upon each individual 
case, without bias either towards the individual or 
towards society ; and, 

4. To pronounce the decision of the law, according 
to its true intent. 

5. As the jury are 9, part of the judicial agents of the 
government, they are bound in the same manner to 
decide upon the facts, according to their best knowledge 
and ability, with scrupulous and impartial integrity. 

III. Of executive officers. 

The executive office is either simple or complex. 

1. Simple; as where his only duty is to perform 
what either the legislative or judicial branches of the 
government have ordered to be done. 

Such is the case with sheriffs, military officers, etc. 

Here the officer has no right to question the goodness 
or wisdom of the law, since for these he is not respon- 
sible. His only duty is to execute it, so long as he 
retains his office. If he believe the action required of 
him to be morally "s^Tong, or at variance with the con 
stitution, he should resign. He has no right to" hold 
the office, and refuse to perform the duties which others 
have been empowered to require of him. 

2. Complex; where legislative and executive duties 
are imposed upon the same person ; as where the chief 
magistrate is allowed a veto on all acts of the other 
branches of the legislature. 

As far as his duties are legislative, he is bound by 
the same principles as any other legislator. 
Sometimes his power is limited to a veto on mere 



3G2 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

constitutional questions ; and at others it extends to all 
questions whatsoever. Sometimes his assent is abso- 
lutely necessary to the passage of all bills ; in other 
cases it is only conditionally necessary ; that is, the other 
branches may, under certain circumstances, enact laws 
without it. 

Wlien this legislative power of the executive has been 
exerted within its constitutional limits, he becomes 
merely an executive officer. He has no other delibera- 
tive power than that conferred upon him by the consti- 
tution. He is under the same obligations as any other 
executive officer to execute the law, unless it seem to 
him a violation of moral or constitutional obligation. 
In that case it is his duty to resign. He has no more 
right than any other man to hold the office while he 
is from any reason whatever unable to discharge the 
duties which the office imposes upon him. That exec- 
utive officer is guilty of gross perversion of official and 
moral obligation, who, after the decision of the legisla- 
tive or judicial branch of a government has been ob- 
tained, suffers his own personal views to influence him 
in the discharge of his duty. It shows that a man is 
either destitute of the ability to comprehend the nature 
of his station, or fatally wanting in that self-government 
so indispensably necessary to him who .is called to pre- 
side over important business. 

And not only is an executive officer bound to exert 
no other power than that committed to him ; he is also 
bound to exert that power for no other purposes than 
those .for which it was committed. A power may be 
Hionferred for the public good ; but this by no means 
ttutliorizes a man to use it for the gratification of indi- 
vidual love or hatred, much less for the sake of build- 
ing up one political party, or of crushing another. 
Political corruption is in no respect the less wicked 
because it is so common. Dishonesty is no better pol- 
icy in the affairs of state than in any other affairs, 
though men may persuade themselves and others to the 
contrary. 



• . CHAPTER IV. 

THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS. 

Prom what has already been stated, it will be seen 
that the duties of a citizen are of two kinds : first, as 
an individual ; and, second, as a member of society. 
A few remarks on each of these will close this part of 
the subject. 

First. As an individual. 

Every individual is under obligation to observe in 
good faith the contract which he instinctively makes as 
soon as he becomes a member of society. This obliges 
him — 

1. To observe the law of reciprocity in all his in 
tercourse with others. 

The nature of this law has been already explained 
Every one expects that his neighbor shall refrain from 
every violation of his rights. This expectation imposes 
upon him the equal obligation to refrain from every 
violation of the rights of his neighbor. It may also be 
added, that the nature of the law of reciprocity binds us, 
not merely to avoid those acts which are destructive to 
the existence of society, but also those which would in^ 
terfere with its happiness. The principle is in all cases 
the same. If we assume the right to interfere with the 
smallest means of happiness possessed by our neighbor, 
the admission of that assumption would excuse every 
form of interference. 

2. To surrender the right of redressing his wrongs 
wholly to society. This has been considered already, 
in treating of the social compact. Aggression and 
injury in no case justify retaliation. If a man's house 
be attacked, he may, so far as society is concerned, re- 



864 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

pel tlie robber, because here society is un.able at tho 
instant to assist him ; but he is at h beriy to put forth 
no otlier effort tlian that necessary to protect liimself, 
or to secure the aggressor for the purpose of delivering 
him over to the judgment of society. If, after having 
secured him, he put him to death, this is murder. 

3. To obey all laws made in accordance with the 
constituted powers of society. Hence we are in no 
manner released from this obligation by tlie conviction 
that the law is unwise or inexpedient. We have con- 
fided the decision of this question to society, and we 
must abide by that decision. To do otherwise would 
be to constitute every man the judge in his own case ; 
that is, to allow every man to obey or disobey as he 
pleased, while he expected from every otlier man im- 
plicit obedience. Thus, though a man were convinced 
that laws regulating the rate of interest were inexpe- 
dient, this would give him no right to violate these laws. 
He must obey them until he be able to persuade society 
to think as he does. 

Secondly. The citizen is under obligations as a con- 
stituent member of society. By these obligations, on the 
other hand, he is bound to fulfil the contract which ha 
has made with every individual. 

Hence he is bound — 

1. To use all the necessary exertion to secure to 
every individual, from the highest and most powerful 
to the lowest and most defenceless, the full benefit of 
perfect protection in the enjoyment of his rights. 

2. To use all the necessary exertion to procure for 
every individual just and adequate redress for wrong. 

3. To use all the necessary exertion to carry into 
effect the laws of civil society, and to detect and punish 
crime, whetlier committed against the individual or 
against society. Wliercver he knows these laws to be 
violated, he is bound to take all proper steps to bring 
the offenders to justice. 

And here it is to be remarked, that he is to consider 
not merely his property, but his personal service, 
pledged to the fulfilment of this obligation. He who 



THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS. 365 

stands by and sees a mob tear down a house, is a par- 
taker in the guilt. And if society knowingly neglect 
to protect the individual in the enjoyment of his rights, 
every member of that society is in equity bound, in 
his proportion, to make good that loss, how great soever 
it may be. 

4. It is the duty of the citizen to bear cheerfully 
his proportionate burden of the public expense. As 
society cannot be carried on without expense, he, by 
entering into society, obliges himself to bear his pro- 
portion of it. And, besides this, there are but few 
modes in which we receive back so much for what we 
expend, as when we pay money for the support of civil 
government. The gospel, I think, teaches us to go 
further, and be ready to do more than we are compelled 
to do by law. The precept, " If a man compel thee to 
go a mile, go with him twain," refers to labor in the 
public service, and exhorts us to do more than can be 
in equity demanded of us. 

5. Besides this, I think a citizen is under moral 
obligation to contribute his proportion to every effort 
which affords a reasonable prospect of rendering his 
fellow-citizens wiser and better. From every such suc- 
cessful effort he receives material benefit, both in his 
person and estate. He ought to be willing to assist 
others in doing that from which he himself derives 
important advantage. 

6. Inasmuch as society enters into a moral obligation 
to fulfil certain duties, which duties are performed by 
agents whom the society appoints ; for their faithful 
discharge of those duties society is morally responsible. 
As this is the case, it is manifestly the duty of every 
member of society to choose such agents as, in his 
opinion, will truly and faithfully discharge those duties 
to which they are appointed. He who, for the sake of 
party prejudice or personal feeling, acts otherwise, and 
selects individuals for office without regard to these 
solemn obligations, is using his full amount of influence 
to sap the very foundations of society, and to perpetrate 
the most revolting injustice. 

31* 



d^fj PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

Thus far we ha\^e gone upon the suppositfon that so 
ciety has exerted its power within its constituted limitg 
This, however, unfortunately, is not always the case 
The question then arises. What is the duty of an indi 
vidual when such a contingency shall arise ? 

Now, there are but three courses of conduct, in such 
a case, for the individual to pursue : passive obedience, 
resistance, and suffering in the cause of right. 

1. Passive obedience, in many cases, would be mani- 
festly wrong. We have no right to obey an unright- 
eous law, since we must obey God at all hazards. And 
aside from this, the yielding to injustice forms a prece- 
dent for wrong, which may work the most extensive 
mischief to those who shall come after us. It is mani- 
fest, therefore, that passive obedience cannot be the rule 
of civil conduct. 

2. Resistance hy force, 

Resistance to civil authority by a single individual 
would be absurd. It can succeed only by the combina- 
tion of all the aggrieved against the aggressors, termi- 
nating in an appeal to physical force ; that is, by civil 
war. 

The objections to this course are the following : 

1. It is, at best, uncertain. It depends mainly on 
the question. Which party is, under the present circum- 
stances, the stronger ? Now, the oppressor is as likely 
to be the stronger as the oppressed, as the history of 
the world has abundantly shown. 

2. It dissolves the social fabric, and thus destroys 
whatever has thus far been gained in the way of social 
organization. But it should be remembered that few 
forms of society have existed for any considerable pe- 
riod, in which there does not exist much that is worthy 
of preservation. 

3. The cause of all oppression is the wickedness of 
man. But civil war is in its very nature a most de- 
moralizing process. It never fails to render men more 
wicked. Can it, then, be hoped that a form of govern- 
ment can be created by men already worse than before, 
better than that which their previous but less ii^tense 
wickedness rendered intolerable? 



THE DUTIES OF CITIZENS. 367 

4. Civil war is, of all evils whicli men inflict upon 
themselves, the most horrible. It dissolves not only 
social but domestic ties, overturns all the security of 
property, throws back for ages all social improvement, 
and accustoms men to view without disgust, and even 
with pleasure, all that is atrocious and revoking. 
Napoleon, accustomed as he was to bloodshed, turned 
away with horror from the contemplation of civil war. 
This, then, cannot be considered the way designed by 
our Creator for rectifying social abuses. 

3. The third course is that of suffering in the cause 
of right. Here Ve act as we believe to be right, in 
defiance of oppression, and bear patiently whatever an 
oppressor may inflict upon us. 

The advantages of this course are — 

1. It preserves entire whatever exists that is valuable 
in the present organization. 

2. It presents the best prospect of ultimate correc- 
tion of abuse, by appealing to the reason and the con- 
science of men. This is, surely, a more fit tribunal to 
which to refer a moral question, than the tribunal of 
physical force. 

3. It causes no more sufiering than is actually ne- 
cessary to accomplish its object ; for whenever men are 
convinced of the wickedness of oppression, the suffering, 
of itself, ceases. 

4. Sufiering in the cause of right has a manifest 
tendency to induce the injurious to review their con- 
duct, under all the most favorable circumstances for 
conviction. It disarms pride and malevolence, and 
enlists sympathy in favor of the sufferer. Hence its 
tendency is to make men better. 

5. And experience has shown that the cause of ci\il 
liberty has always gained more by martyrdom than by 
war. It has rarely happened that, during civil war, 
the spij^it of true liberty has not declined. Such was 
the case in the time of Charles I. in England. How 
far the love of liberty had declined in consequence of 
civil war, is evident from the fact that Cromwell suc- 
ceeded immediately to unlimited power, and Charles 



3G8 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

II. returned with acclamation, to inflict upon the na- 
tion the most odious and heartless tyranny by which it 
was ever disgraced. During the suffering for con.'- 
science under his reign, the spirit of liberty revived, 
hurled his brotlier from the throne, and established 
British freedom upon a firm, and, we trust, an immov- 
able foundation. 

6. Every one must be convinced, upon reflection, 
that this is really the course indicated by the highest 
moral excellence. Passive obedience may arise from 
servile fear ; resistance, from vain-glory, ambition, or 
desire of revolution. Suffering for the sake of right 
can arise only from a love of justice and a hatred of 
oppression. The real spirit of liberty can never exist 
in any remarkable degree in any nation where there is 
not this willingness to suffer in the cause of justice 
and liberty. Ever so little of the spirit of martyrdom 
is always a more favorable indication for civilization 
than ever so much dexterity of party management, or 
ever so turbulent protestation of immaculate patriotism. 



DIVISION II. 

THE LAW OF BENEVOLENCE. 

CHAPTER I. 

GENERAL OBLIGATION AND DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. 

We have thus far considered merely the law of reci- 
procity ; that is, the law which prevents our interfer- 
ence with those means of happiness which belong to 
our neighbor, from the fact that they are the gift of 
God to him. But it is manifest that this is not the only 
law of our present constitution. Besides being obliged 
to abstain from doing wrong to our neighbor, we are 
also obliged to do him good ; and a large part of our 
moral probation actually comes under this law. 

The law of benevolence, or the law which places us 
under obligation to be the instruments of happiness to 
those who have no claim upon us on the ground of reci- 
procity, is manifestly indicated by the circumstances of 
our constitution. 

1. We are created under a constitution in which we 
are of necessity dependent upon the benevolence of 
others. Thus, we are all exposed to sickness, in which 
case we become perfectly helpless, and when, were it 
not for the kindness of others, we must perish. We 
grow old, and by age lose the power of supporting our- 
selves. Were benevolence to be withdrawn, many of 
the old would die of want. The various injuries aris- 
ing from accident, as well as from disease, teach us the 
same lesson. And, besides, a world in which every 



870 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

individual is subject to death, must abound with wid- 
ows and orphans, who, deprived by the hand of God of 
their only means of support, must frequently either 
look for sustenance and protection to those on whom 
they have no claim by the law of reciprocity, or they 
must die. Now, as we live under a constitution in 
which these things are of daily occurrence, and many 
of them by necessity belonging to it, and as we are all 
equally liable to be in need of assistance, it must be 
the design of our Creator that we should, under such 
circumstances, help each other. 

2. Nor do these remarks apply merely to the neces- 
sity of physical support. Much of the happiness of 
man depends upon intellectual and moral cultivation. 
But it is generally the fact, that those who are deprived 
of these means of happiness are ignorant of their value ; 
and would, therefore, remain forever deprived of them, 
were they not awakened to a conviction of their true 
interests by those who have been more fortunate. Now, 
as we ourselves owe our intellectual happiness to the 
benevolence, either near or more remote, of others, it 
would seem that an obligation was imposed upon us to 
manifest our gratitude by extending the blessings which 
we enjoy to those who are destitute of them. We fre- 
quently cannot requite our actual benefactors, but we 
always may benefit others less happy than ourselves ; 
and thus in a more valuable manner promote the wel- 
fare of the whole race to which we belong. 

3. This being manifestly an obligation imposed upon 
us by God, it cannot be affected by any of the actions 
of men ; -that is, we are bound by the law of benevo- 
lence, irrespective of the character of the recipient. It 
matters not though he be ungrateful, or wicked, or inju- 
rious ; this does not affect the obligation under which 
we are placed by God, to treat our neighbor according 
to the law of benevolence. Hence, in all cases, we are 
bound to govern ourselves, not by the treatment which 
we have received at his hands, but accordhig to the law 
by which God has directed our intercourse with him to 
be governed. 



GENERAL OBLIGATION AND DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. 871 

And yet more. It is evident that many of tlie vir- 
tues most appropriate to human nature are called into 
exercise only by the miseries or the vices of others. 
How could there be sympathy and mercy, were there 
no sufiering ? How could there be patience, meekness, 
and forgiveness, were tliere no injury ? Thus we see 
that a constitution which involves, by necessity, suffer- 
ing, and the obligation to relieve it, is that which alone 
is adapted to the perfection of our moral character in 
our present state. 

This law of our moral constitution is abundantly set 
forth in the holy Scriptures. 

It is needless here to speak of the various passages 
in the Old Testament which enforce the necessity of 
mercy and charity. A single text from our Saviour's 
Sermon on the Mount will be sufficient for my purpose. 

It is found Luke vi. 32-36, and Matthew v. 43-48. 
I quote the passage from Luke : 

"If ye love them that love you, what thank have ye ? 
for sinners also love those that love them. And if ye 
do good to those that do good to you, what thank have 
ye ? for sinners also do even the same. And if ye lend 
to them of whom ye hope to receive, what thank have 
ye ? for sinners also lend to sinners, to receive as much 
again. But love ye your enemies, and do good and 
lend, hoping for nothing again ; and your reward shall 
be great, and ye shall be the children of the Highest, 
for he is kind unto the unthankful and to the evil. Be 
ye, therefore, merciful, as your Father in heaven is 
merciful." In Matthew it is said, " Love your enemies; 
bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate 
you, and pray for them that despitefully use you and 
persecute you ; that ye may be the children of [that is, 
that ye may imitate] your Father which is in heaven, 
for he maketh his sun to rise upon the evil and upon 
the good, and sendeth rain upon the just and upon the 
unjust." 

The meaning of this precept is obvious from the con- 
text. To be merciful, is to promote the happiness of 
those who have no claim upon us by the law of reci- 



372 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

procitj, and from whom we can hope for nothing by 
way of remuneration. We are to be merciful, as our 
Father who is in heaven is merciful. 

1. God is the independent source of happiness to 
everything that exists. None can possibly repay him, 
and yet his bounty is unceasing. All his perfections are 
continually employed in promoting the happiness of his 
creation. " Now, we are commanded to be imitators of 
him ; that is, to employ all our powers, not for our own 
gratification, but for the happiness of others. We are 
to consider this not as an onerous duty, but as a privi- 
lege ; as an opportunity conferred upon us of attaining 
to some resemblance to the Fountain and Author of all 
excellence. 

2. This precept teaches us that our obligation is not 
altered by the character of the recipient. God sends 
rain on the just and on the unjust, and causeth his sun 
to shine on the evil and on the good. " God commend- 
eth his love to us, in that, while we were yet sinners, 
Christ died for us." In imitation of this example, we 
are commanded to do good to, and promote the happi- 
ness of, the evil and the wicked. We are to comfort 
them when they are afflicted, to relieve them when they 
are sick ; and specially, by all the means in our power, 
to strive to reclaim them to virtue. We are not, how- 
ever, to give a man the means of breaking the laws of 
God ; as to furnish a drunkard with the means of in- 
temperance : this would be to render ourselves parta- 
kers of his sin. What is here commanded is merely 
the relieving his misery as a suffering human creature. 

3. Nor is our obligation altered by the relation in 
which the recipient may stand to us. His being our 
enemy in no manner releases us from obligation. Every 
wicked man is the enemy of God, yet God bestows 
even upon such the most abundant favors. 

" God so loved the world, that he sent his only-begot- 
ten Son, that whosoever believeth on him should not 
perish, but have everlasting life." Jesus Christ spent 
his life in acts of mercy to his bitterest enemies. He 
died praying for his murderers. So we are commanded 



GENERAL OBLIGATION AND DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. 373 

to love our enemies, to overcome evil with good, and to 
follow the example of St. Paul, who declares to the 
Corinthians, " I desire to spend and be spent for you ; 
though the more abundantly I love you, the less I be 
loved." 

In a word, God teaches us in the holy Scriptures 
that all our fellow-men are his creatures as well as our- 
selves ; and hence, that we are not only under obliga- 
tion, under all circumstances, to act just as he shall 
command us, but that we are specially under obligation 
to act thus to our fellow-men, who are not only our 
brethren, but who are also under his special protection. 
He declares that they are all his children ; that by 
showing mercy to them, we manifest our love to him ; 
and that this manifestation is the most valuable when 
it is the most evident that we are influenced by no 
other motive than love to him. 

Shakspeare has treated this subject very beautifully 
in the following passages : 



'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes 
The throned monarch better than his crown; 
His sceptre shows the force of temporal powers 
The attribute to awe and majesty, 
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; 
But mercy is above this sceptred sway : 
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, 
It is an attribute of God himself; 
And earthly power doth then show liliest God's 
"When mercy seasons justice. 

Merchant of Venice, Act ir., Scene 1 



Alas! alas! 
Why all the souls that are, were forfeit once; 
And He that might the advantage best have took, 
Found out the remedy. Hoio would you be, 
If He, who is the top of judgment, should 
But judge you as you are ? 

Measure for Measure, Act ii., Scene % 



32 



S74 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

The Scriptures enforce this duty upon us for several 
reasons : 

1. From the example of God. He manifests himself 
to us as boundless in benevolence. He has placed us 
under a constitution in which we may, at humble dis- 
tance, imitate him. This has to us all the force of law, 
for we are surely under obligation to be as good as we 
have the knowledge and the ability to be. And as the 
goodness of God is specially seen in mercy to the wicked 
and the injurious, by the same principles we are bound 
to follow the same example. 

2. We live, essentially and absolutely, by the bounty 
and forbearance of God. It is meet that we should 
show the same bounty and forbearance to our fellow- 
men. 

3. Our only hope of salvation is in the forgiveness of 
God — of that God whom we have offended more than 
we can adequately conceive. How suitable is it, then, 
that we forgive the little offences of our fellow-men 
against us ! Our Saviour illustrates this most beauti- 
fully in his parable of the two servants, Matthew xviii. 
23-35. 

4. By the example of Christ, God has shown us what 
is that type of virtue which in human beings is most 
acceptable in his sight. This was an example of perfect 
forbearance, meekness, benevolence, and forgiveness. 
Thus we are not only furnished with the rule, but also 
with the exemplification of the manner in which the 
rule is to be observed. 

5. These very virtues, which are called forth by suf- 
fering from the wickedness and injury of our fellow- 
men, are those which God specially approves, and which 
he declares essential to that character which shall fit us 
for heaven. Blessed are the merciful^ for they shall 
obtain mercy. Blessed are the meek^ blessed are the 
peacejnakers, etc. A thousand such passages might 
easily be quoted. 

6. God has declared that our forgiveness with him 
depends upon our forgiveness of others. " If ye forgive 
not men their trespasses, neither v/ill your Father who 



GENEILiL OBTJGATION AND DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT. 375 

is in heaven forgive yon yonr trespasses." " He shall 
have judgment without mercy, that showeth no mercy ; 
but mercy rejoiceth against judgment ; " that is, a 
merciful man rejoices, or is confident, in the view of the 
judgment day. 

If it be asked, What is the Christian limit to benevo- 
lence ? I answer, that no definite rule is laid down in 
the Scriptures, but that merely the principle is incul- 
cated. All that we possess is God's, and we are under 
obligation to use it all as he wills. His will is that we 
consider every talent as a trust, and that we seek our 
happiness from the use of it, not in self-gratification, 
but in ministering to the happiness of others. Our 
doing thus he considers as the evidence of our love to 
him ; and therefore he fixes no definite amount which 
shall be abstracted from our own immediate sources of 
happiness for this purpose, but allows us to show our 
consecration of all to him, just as fully as we please. 
if this be a privilege, and one of the greatest privileges 
of our present state, it would seem that a truly grate- 
ful heart would not ask hoiu little^ but rather hoio much 
may I do to testify my love for the God who preserves 
me, and the Saviour who has redeemed me. 

And, inasmuch as our love to God is more evidently 
displayed in kindness and mercy to the wricked and the 
injurious than to any others, it is manifest that we are 
bound by this additional consideration to practise these 
virtues toward them in preference to any others. 

And hence we see that benevolence is a religious act, 
In just so far as it is done from love to God. It is lovely 
and respectable and virtuous, when done from sym- 
pathy and natural goodness of disposition. It is pious 
only when done from love to God. 



CHAPTEE II. 

OF BENEVOLENCE TO THE UNHAPPY. 

A MAN may be simply unhappy from either his physi- 
cal or his intellectual condition. We shall consider 
these separately. 

SECTION I, 

UNHAPPINESS FROM PHYSICAL CONDITION. 

The occasions of unhappiness from this cause are 
simple poverty, or the mere want of the necessities and 
conyeniences of life ; and sickness and decrepitude, 
either alone, or when combined with poverty. 

1. Of poverty. Simple poverty, or want, so long as 
a human being has the opportunity of labor sufficiently 
productive to maintain him, does not render him an 
object of charity, " If a man will not work, neither 
shall he eat," is the language no less of reason than of 
revelation. If a man be indolent, the best discipline to 
which he can be subjected is to suffer the evils of pen- 
ury. Hence, all that we are required to do in such a 
case is to provide such a person with labor, and to pay 
him accordingly. This is the greatest kindness, both 
to him and to society. 

2. Sometimes, however, from the dispensations of 
Providence, a human being is left so destitute that his 
labor is insufficient to maintain him. Suc# is fre- 
quently the case with widows and orphans. This forms 
a manifest occasion for charity. The individuals have 



UNHAPPINESS FR0:M PHYSICAL CONDITION. 377 

become, by the dispeusation of God, unable to help 
themselves, and it is both our duty and our privilege 
to help them. 

3. Sickness. Here the ability to provide for ourselves 
is taken away, and the necessity of additional provision 
is created. In such cases, the rich stand frequently in 
need of our aid, our sympathy, and our services. If 
this be the case with them, how much more must it be 
with the poor, from whom the affliction which produces 
suffering takes away the power of providing the means 
necessary for alleviating it ! It is here that the benev- 
olence of the gospel is peculiarly displayed. Our Sa- 
viour declares, " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one 
of the least of these, ye have done it unto me." Bishop 
Wilson, on this passage, has the following beautiful re- 
mark : " ' Inasmuch ' Qas often) ; who then would miss 
any occasion ? ' The least ; ' who then would despise 
an?/ object ? ' To me ; ' so that in serving the poor we 
serve Jesus Christ.'^ 

4. Age also frequently brings with it decrepitude of 
body, if not imbecility of mind. This state calls for our 
sympathy and assistance, and all that care and attention 
which the aged so much need, and which it is so suit- 
able for the young and vigorous to bestow. 

The above are, I believe, the principal occasions for 
the exercise of benevolence towards man's physical 
sufferings. We proceed to consider the principles by 
which our benevolence should be regulated. These 
have respect both to the recipient and to the bene- 
factor. 

I. Principles which relate to the recipient. 

It is a law of our constitution, that every benefit 
which God confers upon us is the result of labor, and 
generally of labor in advance ; that is, a man pays for 
what he receives, not after he has received it, but be- 
fore. This rule is universal, and applies to physical, 
intellectual, and moral benefits, as will be easily seen 
upon reflection. 

Now, so universal a rule could not have been estab- 
lished without both a good and a universal reason ; and 
32* 



378 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

hence we find by experience that labor, even physical 
labor, is necessary to the healthful condition of man, as 
a physical, an intellectual, and a moral being. And 
hence it is evident that the rule is just as applicable to 
the poor as to the rich. Or, to state the subject in 
another form : Labor is either a benefit or a curse. If 
it be a curse, there can be no reason why every class of 
men should not bear that portion of the infliction which 
God assigns to it. If it be a benefit, there can be no 
reason why every man should not enjoy his portion of 
the blessing. 

And hence it will follow that our benevolence should 
cooperate with this general law of our constitution. 

1. Those who are poor, but yet able to support them- 
selves, should be enabled to do so by means of labor, 
and on no other condition. If they are too indolent to 
do this, they should suffer the consequences. 

2. Those who are unable to support themselves wholly 
should be assisted only in so far as they are thus un- 
able. Because a man cannot do enough to support 
himself, there is no reason why he should do nothing. 

3. Those who are unable to do anything, should 
have everything done for them which their condition re- 
quires. Such are infants, the sick, the disabled, and 
the aged. 

Benevolence is intended to have a moral effect upon 
the recipient, by cultivating kindness, gratitude, and 
■universal benevolence among all the different classes of 
men. That mode of charity is therefore most beneficial 
to its object, which tends in the highest degree to cul- 
tivate the kinder and better feelings of his nature. 
Hence it is far better for the needy, to administer to 
them alms, ourselves, than to employ others to do it for 
us. The gratitude of the recipient is but feebly exer 
cised by the mere fact of the relief of his necessities, 
unless he also have the opportunity of witnessing the 
temper and spirit from which the charity proceeds. 
II. Principles which relate to the benefactor. 
The Christian religion considers charity as a means 
of moral cultivation, specially to the benefactor. It is 



UNHAPPINESS FROM PIHSICAL CONDITION. 379 

in the New Testament classed with prayer, and is gov- 
erned essentially by the same rules. This may be seen 
from our Saviour's Sermon on the Mount. 

Hence, 1. That method of charity is always the best 
which calls into most active exercise the virtues of self- 
denial and personal sacrifice, as they naturally arise 
from kindness, sympathy, and charity, or universal love 
to God and man. And on the contrary, all those modes 
of benevolence must be essentially defective, in which 
the distresses of others are relieved without the neces- 
sary exercise of these virtues. 

2. As charity is a religious service, and an important 
means of cultivating love to God, and as it does this iji 
proportion as all external and inferior motives are with- 
drawn, it is desirable also that, in so far as possible, it 
be done secretly. The doing of it in this manner re- 
moves the motives derived from the love of applaup.e, 
and leaves us simply those motives which are deri^ ed 
from love to God. Those modes of benevolence wLich 
are in their nature the furthest removed from hu].aan 
observation, are, cceteris paribus^ the most favorable to 
the cultivation of virtue, and are therefore always tj be 
preferred. 

Hence, in general, those modes of charity are t^ be 
preferred which most successfully teach the objee'" to 
relieve himself, and which tend most directly to :he 
moral benefit of both parties. And, on the contrary, 
those modes of charity are the worst which are the 
furthest removed from such tendencies. 

These principles may easily be applied to some of the 
oidinary forms of benevolence. 

I. Public provision for the poor by poorlaivs will be 
found defective in every respect. 

1. It makes a provision for the poor because he 
is poor. This, as I have said, gives no claim upon 
charity. 

2. It in no manner teaches the man to help himself ; 
but, on the contrary, tends to take from him the natural 
stimulus for doing so, 

3. Hence its tendency is to multiply paupers, va- 



580 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

grants, and idlers. Sucli have been its clfects to an 
appalling degree in Great Britain, and such, from the 
nature of the case, must they be everywhere. It is 
taking from the industrious a portion of their earn- 
ings, and conferring them, without equivalent, upon the 
idle. 

4. It produces no feeling of gratitude towards the 
benefactor, but the contrary. In those countries where 
poor-rates are the highest, the poor will be found the 
most discontented and lawless, and the most inveterate 
against the rich. 

5. It produces no moral intercourse between the 
parties concerned, but leaves the distribution of bounty 
to the hand of an official agent. Hence, what is re- 
ceived is claimed by the poor as a matter of right, and 
the only feeling elicited is that of displeasure because 
it is so little. 

6. It produces no feeling of sympathy or of compas- 
sion in the rich ; but, being extorted by force of law, is 
viewed as a mere matter of compulsion. 

Hence every principle would decide against poor- 
laws as a means of charity. If, however, the society 
undertake to control the capital of the individual, and 
manage it as they will, and by this management make 
paupers by thousands, I do think they are under obli- 
gation to support them. But if they insist upon pur- 
suing this course, it would be better that every poor- 
house should be a workhouse, and that the poor-rates 
should always be given as the wages of some form of 
labor. 

I would not, however, be understood to decide against 
all public provision for the necessitous. The aged and 
infirm, the sick, the disabled, and the orphan, in the 
failure of their relatives, should be relieved, and re- 
lieved cheerfully and bountifully, by the public. I only 
speak of provision for the poor, because they are poor, 
and do not refer to provision made for other reasons. 
Where the circumstances of the recipient render 'Am 
an object of charity, let him be relieved freely and 



UNHAPPINESS FROM PHYSICAL CONDITION. 381 

tenderly. But, if he be not an object of charity, to 
make public provision for him is injurious. 

II. Voluntary associations for purposes of charity. 

Some of the inconveniences arising from poor-laws 
are liable to ensue fi*om the mode of conducting these 
institutions. 

1. They do not make the strongest appeal to the 
moral feelings of the recipient. Gratitude is mucl 
diminished when we are benefited by a public charity 
instead of a private benefactor. 

.2. This is specially the case when a charity is funded, 
and the almoner is merely the official* organ of a dis- 
tribution, in which he can have but a comparatively 
trifling personal interest. 

3. The moral effect upon the giver is much less than 
it would be if he and the recipient were brought im- 
mediately into contact. Paying an annual subscription 
to a charity has a very different effect from visiting 
and relieving, with our own hands, the necessities and 
distresses of the sick and the afflicted. 

I by no means, however, say that such associations 
are not exceedingly valuable. Many kinds of charity 
cannot well be carried on without them. The compar- 
atively poor are thus enabled to unite in extensive and 
important works of benevolence. In many cases, the 
expenditure of capital necessary for conducthig a be- 
nevolent enterprise requires a general effort. I how- 
ever say, that tlie rich, who are able to labor personally 
in the cause of charity, should never leave the mosl 
desirable part of the work to be done by others. They 
should be their own almoners. If they will not do 
this, why then let them furnish funds to be distributed 
by others ; but let them remember that they are losing 
by far the most valuable, that is, they are losing the 
moral benefit which God intended them to enjoy. God 
meant every man to be charitable, as much as to be 
prayerful ; and he never intended that the one duty, 
any more than the other, should be done by a deputy. 
The same principles would lead us to conclude, what, 
I believe, experience has always shown to be the fact, 



382 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

that a fund for the support of the poor of a town has 
always proved a nuisance instead of a benefit. And, 
m general, as charity is intended to be a means of 
moral improvement to both parties, and specially to the 
benefactor, those modes of charity which do not have 
in view the cultivation of moral excellence, are in this 
respect essentially defective. 



SECTION II, 

OF UNHAPPINESS FKOM INTELLECTUAL CONDITION. 

To an intellectual being, in a cultivated state of so- 
ciety, a certain amount of knowledge may be considered 
a necessary of life. If he do not possess it, he is shut 
out from a vast source of enjoyment ; is liable to be- 
come the dupe of the designing, and to sink down into 
mere animal existence. By learning how to read, he is 
enabled to acquire the whole knowledge which is con- 
tained within a language. By writing, he can act 
where he cannot be personally present, and can also 
benefit others by the communication of his own 
thoughts. By a knowledge of accounts, he is enabled 
to be just in his dealings with others, and to be assured 
that others are just in their dealings with him. 

So much as this may be considered necessary ; the 
rest is not so. The duty of thus educating a child be- 
longs, in the first instance, to the parent. But since, 
as so much knowledge as this is indispensable to the 
child's happiness, if the parent be unable to furnish it, 
the child becomes, in so far, an object of charity. And 
as it is for the benefit of the whole society that every 
individual should be thus far instructed, it is properly, 
also, a subject of social regulation. And hence pro- 
vision should be made, at public expense, for the edu- 
cation of those who are unable to procure it. 



LimAPPINESS FROM INTELLECTUAL CO.S'DITION. 383 

Nevertheless, this education is a vahiable consideratioi) 
to the receiver ; and hence our former principle ought 
not to be departed from. Although the provision for 
this degree of education be properly made a matter of 
public enactment, yet every one should contribute to it, 
in so far as he is able. Unless this be done, he will 
cease to value it, and it will be merely a premium on 
idleness. And hence I think it will be found that 
large permanent funds for the purpose of general 
education are commonly injurious to the cause of edu- 
cation itself. A small fund, annually appropriated, 
may be useful to stimulate an unlettered people to 
exertion ; but it is, probably, useful for no other pur- 
pose. A better plan, perhaps, would be to oblige each 
district to support schools at its own expense. This 
would produce the greatest possible interest in the sub- 
ject, and the most thorough supervision of the schools. 
It is generally believed that the large school funds of 
some of our older states have been injurious to the 
cause of common education. 

In so far, then, as education is necessary to enable 
•Qs to accomiDlish the purposes of our existence, and to 
perform our duties to society, the obligation to make a 
provision for the universal enjoyment of it comes 
within the law of benevolence. Beyond this it may 
very properly be left to the arrangements of Divine 
Providence ; that is, every one may be left to acquire 
as much more as his circumstances will allow. There 
is no more reason why all men should be educated 
alike, than why they should all dress alike, or live in 
equally expensive houses. As civilization advances, 
and capital accumulates, and labor becomes more pra 
ductive, it will become possible for every man to acquire 
more and more intellectual cultivation. In this man- 
ner the condition of all classes is to be improved, 
and not by the impracticable attempt to render the 
education of all classes, at any one time, alike. 

While I say this, however, I by no means assert that 
it is not a laudable and excellent charity to assist in 
the acquisition of knowledge any person who gives 



S84 PUACTICAL ETHICS. 

promise of peculiar usefulness. Benevolence is fre* 
quently exerted under such circumstances with the 
greatest possible benefit, and produces the most grati- 
fying and the most abundant results. There can surely 
be no more delightful mode of charity than that which 
raises from the dust modest and despairing talent, and 
enables it to bless and adorn society. Yet, on such a 
subject as this, it is manifest that no general rule can 
be given. The duty must be determined by the re- 
spective condition of the parties. It is^* however, proper 
to add, that aid of this kind should be given with dis- 
cretion, and never in such a manner as to remove 
from genius the necessity of depending on itself. The 
early struggle for independence is a natural and a 
salutary discipline for talent. Genius was given, not for 
the benefit of its possessor, but for the benefit of others ; 
and the sooner its possessor is taught the necessity of 
exerting it to a practical purpose, the better is it for him, 
and the better for society. The poets tell us much of 
the amount of genius which has been nipped in the 
bud by the frosts of adversity. This, doubtless, is 
true ; but let it not be forgotten that, by the law of 
our nature, early promise is frequently delusive. The 
poets do not tell us how great an amount of genius is 
also withered by the sun of prosperity. It is probable 
that a greater proportion of talent is destroyed, or ren- 
dered valueless, by riches than by poverty ; and the 
rapid mutations of society, I think, demonstrate this 
to be the fact. 

The same principles will, in substance, apply to the 
case in which, for a particular object, as for the pro- 
motion of religion, it is deemed expedient to increase 
the proportion of professionally educated men. 

In this, as in every other instance, if we would be 
truly useful, our charities must be governed by the 
principles which God has marked out in the constitu- 
tion of man. 

The general principle of God's government is, that 
for all valuable possessions we must render a consider- 
ation ; and experience has taught that it is impossible 



imHAPPINESS FROM INTELLECTUAL CONDITION. 385 

to vary from tins rule witliout the liability of doing 
injury to the recipient. The reason is obvious ; for we 
can scarcely, in any other manner, injure another so 
serious.ly, as by leadhig him to rely on any one else 
than himself, or to feel that the public are under obli- 
gations to take charge of him. 

Hence charity of this sort should be governed by 
the following principles : 

1. The recipient should receive no more than is ne- 
cessary, wHh his own hidustrious exertions, to accom- 
plish the object. 

2. To loan money is better than to give it. 

3. It should be distributed in such manner as most 
successfully to cultivate the good dispositions of both 
parties. 

Hence private and personal assistance, when practi- 
cable, has many advantages over that derived from 
associations. And hence such supervision is always 
desirable as will restrict the charity to that class of 
persons for whom it was designed, and as will render it 
of such a nature that those of every other class would 
be under the least possible temptation to desire it. 

And, in arranging the plan of such an association, it 
should always be borne in mind that the sudden change 
in all the prospects of a young man's life which is made 
by setting before him the prospect of a professional 
education, is one of the severest trials of human virtue. 

Public provision for scientific education does not 
come under the head of benevolence. Inasmuch, how- 
ever, as the cultivation of science is advantageous to all 
classes of a community, it is for the interest of the 
luhole that it be cultivated. But the means of scien- 
tific education, as philosophical instruments, libraries, 
and buildings, could never be furnished by instructors 
without rendering this kind of education so expensive 
as to restrict it entirely to the rich. It is, therefore, 
wise for a community to make these provisions out of 
the common stock, so that a fair opportunity of improve- 
ment may be open to all. When, however, the pubi>. 
fails to discharge this duty, it is frequently, with great 
33 



886 PRACTICAL ETHICS, 

patriotism and benevolence, assumed by individuals. I 
know of no more interesting instances of expansive 
benevolence than those in which wealth is appropriated 
to the noble purpose of diffusing over all coming time 
" the light of science and the blessings of religion." 



CHAPTER III. 

BENEVOLENCE TO THE WICKED. 

"^1' .v^w come to treat of a form of benevolence in 
«7liich 6laef elements are combined. What is our duty 
to our fello\7-men who are ivickedf 

A wicked man is, from the nature of the case, un- 
happy. He is depriving himself of all the pleasures of 
irirtue ; he is giving strength to those passions which, 
by their ungovernable power, are already tormenting 
him with insatiable and ungratified desire ; he is incur- 
ring the pains of a guilty conscience here ; and he is, in 
the expressive language of the Scriptures, " treasuring 
up wrath against tlie day of wrath and of righteous 
indignation." It is manifest, then, that no one has 
stronger claims upon our pity than such a fellow-crea- 
ture as this. 

So far, then, as a wicked man is miserable or unhappy, 
he is entitled to our pity, and, of course, to our love 
and benevolence. But this is noi all. He is also wicked ; 
and the proper feeling with which we should contem- 
plate wickedness is that of disgust, or moral indigna- 
tion. Hence a complex feeling in such a case naturally 
arises — that of benevolence because he is unhappy, 
and that of moral indignation because he is sinful. 
These two sentiments, however, in no manner conilict 
with, but, on the contrary, if properly understood, 
strengthen each other. 

The fact of a fellow-creature's wickedness affects not 
our obligation to treat him with the same benevolence 
as would be demanded in any other case. If he is 
necessitous, or sick, or afflicted, or ignorant, our duty 



388 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

to relieve and sympatliize with, and assist, and tcActi 
him, is the same as though he were virtuous. God 
sends his rain on the evil and on the good. 

But especially, as the most alarming source of his 
misery is his moral character, the more we detest his 
wickedness, the more strongly would benevolence urge 
Qs to make every effort in our power to reclaim him. 
This, surely, is the highest exercise of charity ; for vir- 
tue is the true solace against all the evils incident to 
the present life, and it is only by being virtuous that we 
can hope for eternal felicity. 

We are bound, then, by the law of benevolence to 
labor to reclaim the wicked — 

1. By example, by personal kindness, by conversation, 
and by instructing them in the path of duty, and per- 
suading them to follow it. 

2. As the most efficacious mode of promoting moral 
reformation yet discovered is found to be the inculca- 
tion of the truths of the holy Scriptures, it is our im- 
perative duty to bring these truths into contact with the 
consciences of men. This duty is by our Saviour 
imposed upon all his disciples : "Go ye into all the 
world, and preach the gospel to every creature.'''' 

3. As all men are our brethren, and as all men 
equally need moral light, and as experience has abun- 
dantly shown tliat all men will be both wicked and un- 
happy without it, this duty is binding upon every man 
towards the whole human race. The sentiments of Dr. 
Johnson on this subject, in his letter on the translation 
of the Scriptures into the Gaelic language, are so appo- 
site to my purpose, that I beg leave to introduce them 
here, though they have been so frequently published. 
" If obedience to the will of God be necessary to hap- 
piness, and knowledge of his will necessary to obedi- 
ence, I know not how he that withholds this knowledge, 
or delays it, can be said to love his neighbor as himself. 
He that voluntarily continues in ignorance, is guilty of 
all the crimes which that ignorance produces ; as to 
him that should extinguish the tapers of a lighthouse 
might be justly imputed the calamities of shipv/recks. 



BENEVOLENCE TO THE WICKED. 389 

Christianity is tlio liigliest perfection of luimanity ; and 
as no man is good but as he wishes the good of others, 
no man can bo good in the highest degree who wishes 
not to others the largest measures of the greatest good." 
— Life^ Anno 1766. 

We see, then,, that in so far as wicked men are by 
their wickedness miserable, benevolence renders it our 
duty to reclaim them. And to such benevolence the 
highest rewards are promised. " They that turn many 
to righteousness, shall shine as the stars for ever and 
ever." But this is not all. If we love our Father in 
heaven, it must pain us to see his children violating his 
just and holy laws, abusing his goodness, rendering not 
only themselves but also his other children miserable, 
and exposing themselves and others to his eternal 
displeasure. The love of God would prompt us to 
check these evils, and to teach our brethren to serve 
and love and reverence our common Father, and to 
become his obedient children, both now and forever. 

Nor is either of these sentiments inconsistent with 
the greatest moral aversion to the crime. The more 
hateful to us is the conduct of those whom we love, the 
more zealous will be our endeavors to bring them back 
to virtue. And surely the more we are sensible of the 
evil of sin against God, the more desirous must we be 
to teach his creatures to love and obey him. 

The perfect exemplification of both of these senti- 
ments is found in the character of our Lord and Saviour 
Jesus Christ. While in all his conduct and teachings 
we observe the most intense abhorrence of every form 
of moral e\'il, yet we always find it combined with a 
love for the happiness, both temporal and spiritual, of 
man, which in all its bearings transcends the limits of 
finite comprehension. This is the example which God 
has held forth for our imitation. It would be easy to 
show that the improvement of the moral character of 
our fellow-men is also the surest method of promoting 
their physical, intellectual, and social happiness. 
33* 



CHAPTEE IV. 



BENEVOLENCE TO THE INJURIOUS. 

The teaching of the gospel in this case is explicit 
Our Saviour has tanglit us that it is our duty to return 
good for evil. " If thine enemy hunger, feed him ; and 
if he thirst, give him drink." We are to love our en- 
emies, to bless those that curse us, and pray for those 
that despitefally use us and persecute us. The gospel 
commands us to love all men. If they violate this com- 
mand, it furnishes us with no reason for following their 
example. And still more, their ill conduct furnishes 
us with an opportunity for the exercise of special and 
peculiar virtue. It is made our duty to overcome the 
wrong disposition of the evil-doer by manifesting towards 
him particular kindness and good-wilL It is our duty 
to overcome evil with good ; that is, by the exliibition 
of sincere good-will to reclaim the injurious person to 
virtue. There can be no doubt that sucJi is the teach- 
ing of the New Testament. It is, moreover, evident that 
such a course is indicated by tlie conditions of our 
being. This is evident from the slightert considera- 
tion. 

The conscience of every man bears witness, that to 
overcome evil with unchanged kindness is an act of the 
most exalted virtue ; while retaliation is ever an unfail- 
ing indication of meanness of spirit. We cannot hope 
for the forgiveness of God, unless from the heart we 
forgive all who have- injured us. 

Again : this method of treating an injurious person 
has a manifest tendency to put an end to every form of 
ill-will. 



BENEVOLENCE TC THE INJURIOUS. 391 

For, 1. No man can long continue in a course of in- 
jurious conduct, wlien he receives in return notliing 
but kinclncb^s. 

2. By such conduct the heart of the offender is im- 
proved, and there is less probabihty that he will repeat 
the injury. 

3. it also improves the heart of the offended person, 
and thus renders it less likely that he will ever commit 
an injury himself. 

On the contrary, the tendency of retaliation is exactly 
the reverse. It tends to increase and foster and mul- 
tiply wrongs absolutely without end. It renders neither 
party better, but always renders both parties worse. 
The offending party is aroused to revenge, and the 
offended party who retaliates is so much the worse, as 
he has done a mean action when he might have done a 
noble one. 

We thus learn the temper which we should cultivate 
towards those who injure us, and the conduct which 
should flow from such a temper. 

It, however, frequently happens that the injury may 
be of such a nature that the peace of society demands 
its suppression. Society was established for the very 
purpose of protecting rights and redressing wrongs. 
We may therefore, without any feeling of vindictiveness, 
deliver such an offender to the judgment of society. 
It is our duty to do this without the least feeling 
of vindictiveness or malice. Thus the Apostle Paul 
appealed to his rights as a Roman citizen for protec- 
tion. 

But when the case of injustice or violation of right 
is in the hands of society, the same principles should 
govern its action as in the case of the individual. The 
crime should be prevented, and the criminal should, if 
possible, be reclaimed. Those means should be adopted 
which will most directly tend to eradicate wrong habits, 
to cultivate and strengthen moral principles, to form 
habits of industry, and eventually restore the criminal 
to society a wiser, a better, and a useful man. The 
whole experience of John Howard is summed up by 



392 PRACTICAL ETHICS. 

him in the simple sentence, " It is in vain to punish Ihe 
wicked, unless you seek to reclaim them." 

Secondly. If injury be done by one society to another, 
what is to be done ? 

Here there is no party to which we naturally appeal. 
Both parties are supreme. The common resort of na- 
tions, in case of injury, is war ; that is, they declare their 
purpose to do each other the greatest injury, by every 
means in their power. Hundreds of thousands of men 
are brought face to face for the express purpose of 
slaughtering each other, and of destroying the property 
of each other, which has been the accumulation of the 
labor of ages, and wherever this property is found, 
whether on land or at sea. This work of mutual de- 
struction proceeds, giving unlimited indulgence to every 
evil passion, until one of the parties can endure it no 
longer; and then peace is restored by the weaker yield- 
ing to the stronger the matter in dispute. In such 
contests the loss of life in battle and by disease is fright- 
ful; the murder of innocent and unoffending men, wo- 
men, and children is shocking to contemplate. And the 
demoralization of those engaged in actual warfare is 
such as we might expect from men associated for the 
very purpose of destruction, and from whom all ordi- 
nary restraints have been removed, and by whom all 
evil passions of the human heart may be exerted with- 
out control. 

Strange as it may seem, yet even Christian nations 
seem to resort to this as the only method of dealing 
with a nation which they believe to have offered to tiiem 
an injury. Yet I think no one can for a moment sup- 
pose that this work of universal destruction is in har- 
mony with the precepts of the Prince of Peace. Can 
any other method be devised ? 

On this subject we beg leave to offer a few sugges- 
tions. 

First. It is the duty of every society to present an 
example of strict justice in all its dealings with every 
other society ; to refrain in all cases from injury ; and 
when, from any cause, it has committed an injury, to 
make at once all needful reparation. 



BENE70LEXCE TO THE INJURIOUS. 393 

Secondly. It is the duty of every nation to manifest 
kindness and charity to every other nation ; to relieve 
them "^hen suffering from famine, or by any other 
afflictive dispensation of Divine Providence ; to abstain 
from every form of aggression ; and to desire the happi- 
ness of the whole human race, as we desire our own. 

Tliirdhj. A nation acting upon these principles 
would rarely suffer injury from its neighbors. But 
suppose injury to be offered. Suppose any nation to act 
at variance with the principles of national law, and 
injure or rob any of our citizens. Are we not bound to 
use the whole power of the nation for the protection 
and redress of every member of the body politic ? 

I think we are. But this does not involve the neces- 
sity of war. It would be far better for us at once to as- 
sume the charge of remuneration for the injury inflicted, 
and present our claim to the offending nation. When 
the Tiolence of passion has subsided, a calm appeal to the 
principles of right, in the view of all the nations of the 
earth, will commonly have a greater and better effect 
than can be obtained by war. 

But suppose these means to fail : what then is to be 
done ? Suppose a nation to hold itself amenable nei- 
ther to the principles of national law or individual right. 
What course should we pursue when a case of the same 
kind occurs between individuals ? When a man by his 
conduct renders it evident that he is governed by no 
principle of right, though we should cheerfully relieve 
him in distress, yet we should withdraw from all ordinary 
intercourse with him ; we should, as far as possible, put it 
out of his power to do us an injury again. It seems to 
me that the same course might with advantage be pur- 
sued by a nation. If another nation, in its treatment 
of our citizens, held itself at liberty to act in defiance 
of all the rules of right, we might well refuse to have 
with it any intercourse. If this mode of treatment were 
universally adopted, the offending nation would suffer 
all the evils of entire isolation, and would soon see the 
importance of retracing its steps, and yielding obedi- 
ence to the principles of imivcrsal Uw. 



394 PEACTICAL ETHICS. 

But suppose an extreme case. If a nation, in defiance 
of right, from love of conquest, or desire of territory, 
or any other wicked motive, sliould resolve on the sub- 
jugation of its unoffending neighbor, with the intention 
of overthrowing a just government, and establishing in 
its place the power of brute force : what then is to be 
done ? The offending nation, abjuring all moral princi- 
ples, lays aside its character as men, and, like inferior 
animals, appeals solely to physical force. As such, I 
think, they must be treated ; and force must be repelled 
by force, just so far as it is necessary to resist their evil 
design. In this the whole people may unite, and strive 
to the utmost to transmit unharmed to their children 
the legacy of liberty which they have received from 
their fathers. Their object is simply to repel injury ; 
and when this is accomplished, the sword should be 
returned to its scabbard, and the offending nation be 
treated as brethren as soon as they have by their con- 
duct shown themselves worthy of this relation. 



NOTE. 

OUR DUTY TO BRUTES. 

I SHOULD be guilty of injustice to one class of my 
fellow-creatures, if I should close this treatise ujdou 
human duty without a single remark upon our obli- 
gations to brutes. 

Brutes are sensitive beings, capable of, probably, as 
great degrees of physical pleasure and pain as our- 
selves. They are endowed with insthict, which is, prob- 
ably, a form of intellect inferior to our own, but 
which, being generically unlike to ours, we are unable 
to imderstand. They differ from us chiefly in being 
destitute of any moral faculty. 

We do not stand to them in the relation of equality. 
" Our right is paramount, and must extinguish theirs." 
We have, therefore, a right to use them to promote our 
comfort, and may innocently take their life if our ne- 
cessities demand it. This right over them is given to 
us by the revealed will of God. But, inasmuch as 
they, like ourselves, are the creatures of God, we have 
no right to use them in any other manner than that 
which God has permitted. They, as much as ourselves, 
are under his protection. 

We may, therefore, use them, 1. For our necessities. 
We are designed to subsist upon animal food, and wo 
jiay innocently slay them for this purpose. 

2. We may use them for labor, or for innocent pliys- 
*cal recreation, as when we employ the horse for 
draught or for the saddle. 

3. But, while we so use them, we are bound to treat 
them kindly, to furnish them with sufficient food, and 
with convenient shelter. He who cannot feed a brute? 



3&6 " PEACTICAL ETHICS. 

•well, ought not to own one. And when we put them 
to death, it should be with the least possible pain. 

4. We are forbidden to treat them unkindly on any 
pretence, or for any reason. There can be no clearer 
indication of a degraded and ferocious temper, than 
cruelty to animals. Hunting, in many cases, and horse- 
racing, seem to me liable to censure in this respect. 
Why should a man, for the sake of showing his skill 
as a marksman, shoot down a poor animal which he 
does not need for food ? Why should not the brute, 
that is harming no living thing, be permitted to enjoy 
the happiness of its physical nature unmolested ? 
" There they are privileged ; and he that hurts or 
harms them there, is guilty of a wrong." 

5. Hence all amusements which consist in inflicting 
pain upon animals — such as bull-baiting, cock-fighting, 
ect. — are purely wicked. God never gave us power 
over animals for such purposes. I can scarely conceive 
of a more revolting exhibition of human nature than 
that which is seen when men assemble to witness the 
misery which brutes inflict upon each other. Surely 
nothing can tend more directly to harden men in worso 
than brutal ferocity. 



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KITTO* S MIS TORY OF PAIESTINE, from the Patriarchal Age to the 

Present Time ; with Chapters on the Geography and Natural History of the 

Country, the Customs and Institutions of the Hebrews. By John Kitto, 

D. D. With upwards of two hundred Illustrations. 12mo, cloth, 1.75. 

V0- A work admirably adapted to the Family, the Sabbath School, and the week-day School Li' 

biary 

WESTCOTT'S INTBOnzrCTIOJ^ TO THE STJ7BT OF TSE GOS- 
FEZS. With Historical and Explanatory Notes. By Brooke Foss 
Westcott, M. A., late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge. With an Intro- 
duction by Prof. H. B. Hackett, D. D. Royal 12mo, cloth, 2.00. 
OS" A masterly work by a master mind. 

MIIICOTT'S IIFE OF CHBIST BTISTOBICAIIT CONSID- 
EBED. The Hulseah Lectures for 1859, with Notes Critical, Historical, and 
Explanatory. By C J. Ellicott, B. D. Royal 12mo, cloth, 1.75. 

9&- Admirable in spirit, and profound in argument. 

UAWIINSON'S SISTOBICAI EVIDENCES OF TSE TBTTTB 
OF TSE SCBIPTUBE BECOBBS, STATED AJVEW, with Siiecial 
i-eference to the Doubts and Discoveries of Modern Times. In Eight Lectures, 
delivered in the Oxford University pulpit, at the Bampton Lecture for 1859. By 
Geo. Rawlinson, M. A., Editor of the Histories of Herodotus. With the Co- 
pious Notes translated for the American edition by an accomplished scholar. 
12mo, cloth, 1.75. 
"The consummate learning, judgment, and general ability, displayed by Mr. Rawlinson in bis 

dition of Herodotus, are exhibited in this work also." — Iforth-AmericoH. 

IS 



GOD WITH US; or, the Person and Work of Christ. "With an Examination 
of '♦ The Vicarious Sacrifice " of Dr. Bushnell. By Alvah Hovey, D.D., 
President of Newton Theologicallnstitution. 12mo, cloth. $1.75. 
This is a most able, thorough, instructive, and very timely -work. 

PROPHECY A PREPARATION FOR CHRIST. Bampton Lec- 
TURES. By R. Payne Smith, D.D., Regius Professor of Divinity, and Canon 
of Christ Church, Oxford. 12mo, cloth. $1.75. 

flS- A work of marked ability and of great interest. 

DOGMATIC FAITH. An inquiry into the relation subsisting between Reve- 
lation and Dogma. Bampton Lectures. By Edward GtArbett, M.A. 
12mo, cloth. $2.25. 

PROGRESS OF DOCTRINE IN THE NEW TESTAMENT; 
Bampton Lectures. By T. D. Bernard, Exeter College. 12mo, cloth. $1.50. 

l^§= A masterly production, and, as one distinguished Clergyman said of it, 
" It is worth its weight in gold." 

THE JEWISH TEMPLE AND THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH. 
By R. "W. Daxe, M.A. On fine tinted paper. 12mo, cloth. $2.00. 

"Hjs work," says the London Lit. World, "is thoroughly able, and he proves 
himself to have complete mastery of the scholarship requisite for his purpose. He 
is eminently practical, but a vein of strong reasoning runs through the whole, 
and we feel that we are in converse with a masculine and sagacious intellect." 

LECTURES ON SATAN. By Thaddeus McRae, Pastor of Presbyterian 
Church, McVeytown, Pa. 16mo, cloth. 90 cents. 

The object of this work is to show the origin, character, and power of Satan; 
that he is not a myth as some are bold to assert, but a real character, as described 
in the Scriptures. The work is written in an interesting, vigorous style, present- 
ing facts and arguments that must be convincing to every candid reader. 

NOTES ON THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MATTHEW. 
Critical and Explanatory. Intended for Sabbath School Teachers, an Aid to 
Family Instruction, etc. By N. Marshman "Wllliams, D.D. "With numerous 
illustrations. 12mo, cloth. $1.75. 

The Xotes by Dr. "Williams have been approved, and highly commended by 
some of the ablest Ministers and Scholars of the denomination, and also by the 
press generally. 

SEEDS AND SHEAVES ; or, Words of Scripture, their History, and 
Fruits. By Rev. A. C. Thompson, D.D., author of " The Better Land," " The 
Mercy Seat," " Lyra Ccelestis," etc. 12mo, cloth. $1.75. 

A work unique, interesting, and instructive, giving illustrations of the use 
which God has made of particular passages of his Word. The biography of cer- 
tain texts is more wonderful and more valuable than the biography of a hero. 

PASTOR AND PREACHER ; a Memorial of the late Rev. Baron Stow, 
D.D. By ROLLiN H. Neaxe, D.D., with an Appendix, containing extracts from 
a Memorial Discourse, by D. C. Eddy, D.D., and a Memorial Discourse by A. J. 
€rORDON. Square 16mo, tinted paper, bevel boards, full gilt. $1.00. 

A beautiful tribute to the memory of a good man ; published in beautiful style. 
S8 



% 



>B®- The Pastor is often asked by his Sabbath School Teachers, " What is the 
best Commentary on the whole Bible ? " You have here the answer. 

THE PORTABLE C03IMENTARY: A Commentary, Critical and Ex- 
planatory, on the Old and New Testaments. By Rev. Robert Jamieson, D.D., 
Rev. a. R. Fausset, and Rev. David Brown, D.D. In two vols. 12mo, 
cloth. $6.00. 

Also, the same with the Commentary on one page and the Text on the page 
opposite. In four>ols. 16mo, cloth. $6.50. 

This work will be found the most compact, as well as reliable, Commentary 
published, and is admirably adapted to the Family, Sabbath School Teacher, 
and all students of the Bible. Its theological opinions are Scriptural, its geo- 
graphical researches are brought down to the latest periods, its explanations of 
Grod's Word are sensible and clear, and the whole forms one of the most con- 
venient, useful, and really valuable Commentaries extant. 

The work is in tioo forms : the Portable, in tioo volumes, containing only the 
Commentary ; the other, in four volumes, containing both the Text and the Com- 
mentary. The type is small, yet clear and distinct, and is furnished at a price 
BO low as to place it within the means of all classes. 

The work is commanding the general attention of Clergymen, Sabbath School 
Teachers, and all Bible students. 

THE BREMEN LECTURES. On Fundamental Living Religious Ques- 
tions. By a number of the ablest scholars of the day. Translated from the 
German by Rev. D. Heagle. 12mo, cloth. $1.75. 

Dr. Hovey, President of the Newton Theological Institution, in a prefatory 
note says: "I have given the Lectures a careful perusal; I am not surprised to 
find them rich in' thought and admirable in style; indeed, singularlj' worthy of 
being jjut into the English language for the benefit of American readers ; for they 
are noble defences of the Christian religion against fierce attacks from living 
adversaries | and, like all good defences of ' the faith once delivered to the saints,' 
they deal with central facts and principles, and possess a value quite indepen- 
dent of controversy." 

contents of the work. 

1. — The Biblical Account of Creation and Natural Science. By Otto 
Zockler, D.D., Prof, at Greifswald. 2. — Reason, Conscience, and Revelation. 
By Rev. Hermann Cremer, Pastor at Ostonnen, near Soest. Z.— Miracles. By 
Rev. M. Fuchs, Pastor at Oppin, near Halle. A.— The Person of Jesus Christ. 
By Chr. E. Luthardt, D.D., Prof, of Theology at Leipsic. b.— The Resurrection 
of Christ as a Soteriologico- Historical Fact. By Gerhard Uhlhorn, D.D., Fii'st 
Preacher to the (late) Court of Hanover. 6. — The Scriptural Doctrine of 
Atonement. By W. F. Gess, D.D., Prof, at Gottingen. I.— Tha Authenticity 
of our Gospels. By Constantine Tischendorf, D.D., Prof, of Theology at 
Leipsic. 8.— The Idea of the Kingdom of God as Perfected., and Its Significancy 
for Historical Christianity. By J. P. Lange, D.D., Prof, at Bonn. 9. — ' 
Christianity and Culture. By Rev. Julius Disselhof, Pastor and Inspector in 
Kaiserwerth. 

LIFE AND LETTERS OF HUGH MILLER. By Peter Bayne, 

Author of "The Christian Life." With a Likeness, a Bust, and Pictures of the 
Birthplace and the last Residence of Mr. Miller. 2 vols. 12mo, cloth. $4.00. 

That Hugh Miller was, intellectually, one of the greatest men of his time, is a 
statement which no candid reader of these two volumes will question. Deemed 
a dunce by the schoolmasters of his boyhood, he rose from the humblest begin- 
ning to the highest position among the magnates of literature and science. The 
man or woman who begins this work will find themselves too deeply interested 
to stop until the end is reached. It is not only a deeply interesting, but a most 
instructive work, and should be read by everybody, old and youug. 



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